#like maybe i should just love and care for myself directly

[mrhrns]

Astarion issue

Consider this post as another meaningless shitpost from me. After it I'm going back to my endless work. I was silent about this for gods know how much time, and now I can't hold it inside. Not anymore. Important note: I do realise that I am nobody and my word has no power and blahblahblah, yet I think it is significant, at least for my own self, and who knows, maybe I'll find people with same thoughts. There is... a reason I would like to stay out from BG3 community and fandom. I do wish to contribute my own art someday, however, because my love for this game, its characters and Larian st is huge, but getting inside of fandom, searching for things here and there? ...I don't think I want it. And yeah, that bloodsucker bastard is a main reason for it. Not him directly, but how people perceive him. What they think about him. What they feel. What they show, draw, tell and discuss with everyone else about him. And mostly all of it is... Well... I have complicated feelings about it. None of them are pleasant. Disturbance, disgust, disappointment, and many more similar to it. Why? Here where I realise that mostly the problem is myself. "It's just a fictional character, just some pixels on your screen with voice, why care?" I do. If only anybody knew how much he means to me. I don't have light and easy life, I am in a constant state of survival, I have a list of many different traumas, and holding him in my little silly head helps getting through that shit. Pure shit. Believe me. Because, hell, surviving all he had in his undead life and still managing to be that charismatic (even if it's just a mask), that willing to move forward (even with mood "well, we are doomed")? An icon. Imperfect and by doing so relatable in almost everything for me. And that is why my brain can't help it but feel about him everything like he is alive. Existent. Just somewhere else, far away with no chance of meeting him. And that is why whenever I see porn arts with him, thirsty commentaries, erotic merch like statues, discussions whether he will drink the menstrual blood or not (and even getting his main scenarist involved in that crap) and god damn, that full-sized sex-doll? A bitter irony that his whole point as of fictional character was also showing him as a person with sex-trauma, who was always perceived as a pretty toy-thing for a night against his will with no care for his actual personality in his world, and it is exactly what people do in real life. Here I am glad he isn't real. All of it isn't surprising, though, considering that steam achievements have shown that only a half of players got through the first act.They don't know and they don't want to know. Am I going to tell people what to do and how they should enjoy these fictional things? Of course not. But I would be damn glad if people were digging just a bit more under the surface, but it's a whole other problem that goes with everything else in our world. I just really needed to pull this all out from my brains and put it somewhere, sitting in my dark corner and grumbling at people, just like always. And in the end - yes, I do understand that not all of his fans are like that. Doesn't really help with going frustration.

[phagodyke]

man. getting a little sick of being everyones 15th option for everything. when is it my turn to be someone's first choice :^[

[knife-eared-jan]

Ok, as much as I have been hyping and playing 12 hours a day since it got out (still in Act 1 though, bc I'm a slowass player and completionist), I feel like I have to say something that is getting hard to ignore at this point... and I wanna preface this by saying that I am loving a lot of aspects of the game and I adore the writing when it comes to the companions, who I am obsessed with.

And maybe this will get better yet, as I generally heard the writing picks up once the story progresses beyond picking up all companions..

But I'm starting to get quite upset at the way the writing just does NOT care about the established lore and the politics of Thedas like at all, when to me - and many others - that richness, nuance and depth of the world is what makes the games so special.

(Spoilers below)

I looked past the way the elves in Arlathan just seemed to know that their gods are evil and Solas is "kind of a dick" but was right about that. When, you know, that made him basically the Satan of their pantheon up to now.. It was after all the tutorial stage of the game and I understand that you wanna ease newcomers into the lore. I could also handwave it in-universe with Morrigan being there - she could have filled the Veiljumpers in on the discoveries of the Inquisition or even what the Well told her.

It felt a bit weird that our contacts in every other faction just accepted this huge revelation without a blink, but again it was the early stages and I also get that having a discussion about it 6 times with different faction leaders would have been incredibly tedious. So I ignored that. And yeah, at least the First Warden found it hard to swallow.

The fact that they brushed aside the gods finding elven subjects - many of whom after all still worship them - with one sentence from Solas was disappointing though. Instead they chose to ally them with the Venatori and the Antaam who are the pure evil factions with no nuance or motive to side with them besides a comic book level of hunger for power. They didn't even throw in a sentence about the gods maybe speaking to the Venatori through the Archdemons to get them on their side or how it's very ironic that the Venatori, who want to make Tevinter great again, stoop to working with the pantheon of the people they oppress because they see them as lesser and other. No political exploration of the massive lore implications at all.

It really hit me when I picked up Davrin and he commented how Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain blighting the world would really endear us (elves) to the rest of Thedas - this was the first time anyone actually mentioned the political impact of the elven gods being real, freed, evil and blighted on modern day elves at all, when this should be HUGE. It should be ugly. It should be complex. It should be explored in as many examples as bloodmagic and the oppression of mages was in DA2. It should be a central point of Act 1. (This btw made me love Davrin so much in that moment because this was the first time in the game for me when I actually felt like talking to a Dragon Age elf and even just that one line felt like home.)

And now I just did Taash's first companion quest and it seems Qunari lore is also being ignored (except for the gender aspect of it, which I look forward to). Taash's mum was a scholar and had a baby and the only problem about that was that it could breathe fire and was special but otherwise all would have been dandy? Like she would have just been allowed to keep Taash long enough to find that out about her baby if she was living under the Qun? That directly contradicts everything we know about how the Qunari's culture around reproduction and childcare works.

Sorry to be negative and talking myself into a rage - I know it's not something people want to see rn. But like, I realise you have to brush over some lore intricacies for brevity and to make it digestible for new players. But this is a world initially inspired by Wheel of Time and ASOIAF, both of which are interesting because of the depth of ficitional cultures, lore and politics, and hence it's also what gives Dragon Age its appeal. And now they take us to the most politcally interesting areas on the world map and just get rid of all of political depth?

That's really disappointing. Imagine if Winds of Winter dropped all political themes just because there's several previous books and it's been some a lot of years.

Also, I managed to play DA2 before I ever played Origins and they could introduce me to a vast established background of lore just fine back then.

Sorry. Rant over. But I had to get that out of my system.

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel is locked out of his house drunk and knocks on your door for help thinking your father is home.]

Smut

“What do you want me to say? That I can’t stop thinkin’ about how wet I made you-“ his words shocking you as he cornered you back against the wall.

It was Saturday night and as usual you stood home alone while your parents went out and about. It wasn’t too bad, you always found something to entertain yourself with but for some reason this Saturday was extra boring. Your neighbor Sarah and you would usually get together, two college girls who loved to take on the city on your free time but she happened to be out of town for the weekend.

Flipping through the channels you sighed when your doorbell suddenly rang.

“Who the hell?” You uttered to yourself as you peaked through the side window to see none other than Joel Miller at your door.

Once you did open the door you realized something seemed a bit off with him. His hand leaning on the wall beside your door as he looked up at you, you could already see it.

The man was drunk.

“Hi honey, your daddy home…?” The smell of whiskey coming into instant contact with you.

“Um no, sorry. He’s out for a few hours”

“Shit” he brushed his hand through his waves in frustration.

“Is there something I could do for you?” His hands placed on his hips he took a deep breath before stumbling to the side.

“You alright?” You took a step forward as he slowly looked up at you.

“I locked myself out of my damn house, wanted to see…if I could stay here till Tommy gets back but I don’t think your dad would appreciate me staying with you alone for a few hours.” The thought secretly exciting you. Everyone had a crush on Sarah’s dad.

“It’s alright…I’ll figure it out” he began to turn away until you stopped him.

“I dont think my dad would mind” you lied.

“I don’t know honey-“

“How long have we known you Joel?” You responded making him smirk.

“Besides, I’m sure Sarah is gonna get a good laugh out of this” you chuckled as you stepped aside to let him in before closing the door.

“Oh yeah, finally get a night to myself and lock my ass out” he followed you to the kitchen being careful not to run into anything.

“Well like she says, must be your age old man” you teased as you opened the fridge.

“Hey, I ain’t that old.” Joel stood on the other end of the island leaning forward watching as you searched your fridge till you pulled out a bottle of water.

“I’m not the one who said it” you turned to him with a playful look as you placed the water bottle before him. He squinted his eyes with a smile before taking a sip.

“So you don’t think I’m an old man?”

“Now why would I think that?” You crossed your arms leaning back against the fridge noticing his eyes quickly take in the view of your body. A satin pink robe tied around your waist with shorts and a tank top underneath which couldn’t really been seen with how tightly you had the robe wrapped around you.

“Don’t be fooled by the grey hairs, honey” he began to walk around the counter.

“Still got enough gas in my tank” he chuckled, his words making you laugh. Something about his Texas accent exciting you..

“Such an old man thing to say” you joked.

“Haha” he stopped before you a little closer than you expected him to.

“I’m just joking, you definitely look like you could put in work-I mean-“ you completely caught yourself off guard, Joel raised his brows with a grin as you stood in shock with what you blurt out.

“What I meant was-“

“I know what cha meant” his eyes danced as his tongue slid over his bottom lip. He took another step attempting to move forward but stumbled side ways making you gasp and grab his arm.

“Woah, you okay? Maybe you should sit down” he took a step forward towering over you. Usually the smell of liquor this strong would’ve grossed you out but something about the way he was staring down at you completely distracted you. You suddenly felt his hand gently on your chin making you look more directly at him with big curious eyes.

“Mr.Miller” you whispered. His eyes traced the shape of your lips as the urge inside him grew.

“Mr.Miller…you’re drunk” his gaze met yours as if he was just coming into realization with what he was doing yet he didn’t move his hand away. Instead his finger began to trace your bottom lip making excitement build up in the pit of your stomach.

“I ever tell you how….pretty I think you are..?” He spoke low. Slowly you shook your head as he went on to trace your top lip before looking into your eyes. You couldn’t believe what he was saying…what he was doing.

“Every afternoon, you walked in with Sarah and…I couldn’t help myself but just look at cha sometimes… you never noticed so focused on those papers you always worked on…such a good school girl..” he went on to slide his large finger in your mouth. You stood still allowing him to do as he pleased, apart of you shocked yet still you sucked on his finger making him moan deeply. Joel knew he couldn’t stop himself now, he already had gone too far but he didn’t care. Pulling his finger out he quickly grabbed your face and kissed you eagerly making you stumble back against the counter. Surely he was drunk but he knew damn well what he was doing.

“Turn around” he spoke as he physically turned you around. You gasped leaning over the counter feeling him reach underneath your robe and pull down your shorts.

“Wait-are you-“ you gasped as he began to unzip his pants.

“Are you sure we should-“ You asked panting looking back at him before he unexpectedly took your hand and made you feel his bare hard on.

“That seem sure enough to you, sweetheart?” he whispered. Feeling how hard he was you felt yourself become aroused. Joel went from stumbling one moment to holding you in place by your hips. His sober feelings being taken over by liquor courage making him do something he never would’ve thought to actually do. Spitting on his hand he lubricated his cock before angling himself behind you and slowly entering you.

“Oh fuck-“ he whispered to himself. You gasped feeling how full he made you feel. His hands tightening on your waist he pulled out and once again slid back inside you.

“Oh my god..” you whispered.

“Can you take that for me, baby?” He thrusted his hips once again, this time with more force making you cry out. His body moving at a rhythm that was building up pleasure inside you, you grabbed onto the counter and moaned. Joel had fantasized about this more times than he could admit, you felt better than he could’ve imagined.

“You’re so god damn wet” he squeezed your ass with his large hands as he moved faster.

Screwing your friend’s father was not on your bingo card for this summer but God did it feel like nothing you had ever experienced before. Joel picked up your leg holding it on the counter allowing him to go deeper. His ballsack slamming against your clit as you dripped onto him.

“Mr.Miller…” you moaned only making him move faster, he could feel you pulsating around him as you screamed in pleasure.

“What is it, baby? Talk to me” he panted pulling your body back against him.

“H-harder” you struggled to speak as he wrapped his hand around your throat and did just as you asked. The sound of your wet pussy being slammed into through out the kitchen, you held your breath before an orgasm took complete control of you. He couldn’t contain himself any longer feeling your body spasm against him, the urge he felt for you was so strong he was surprised he was able to pull out in time. Panting hard you felt him cum all over your ass, his hand squeezing your waist as more cum continued to drip out of him. You looked back and watched at how he watched himself cum on you, the sound of his moans making your pussy throb.

“Oh baby-“ he stumbled away into the living room as you stood up straight. Your legs feeling like jello you took a moment to balance yourself.

“Do you want some water?” You asked awkwardly as you adjusted your shorts.

There was no response.

Holding your robe shut with your arms crossed you walked into the living room to find him passed out on the couch. Your lips parted when you noticed he fell asleep with his cock completely out of his pants, still hard.

Slowly walking towards him you stared down at him awkwardly as if he hadn’t just had you bent over on the counter. It was just after midnight and you were concerned of your father walking in on him like this, you knew you needed to fix this as soon as possible. Quietly getting on your knees you hesitantly took hold of his thick cock. Placing both of your small hands around his shaft you were instantly reminded how full he made you feel. Oh what you would give to feel him inside you once more. Looking up to see him still asleep you gently pulled his underwear up over his cock and closed his pants when he suddenly moved but didn’t open his eyes. Joel was out cold just as your phone suddenly buzzed.

‘Won’t be back tonight, staying in the city with your mom. Be back in the afternoon, love you’

Of course your father now was leaving the house to yourself.

After falling asleep on the couch across from him, Joel began to wake up just before six in the morning to his phone buzzing.

Groaning with a headache he rubbed his head before reaching for the phone in his pocket.

“Where the hell are you?” Tommy asked as Joel looked around confused realizing he wasn’t in his bed.

“Uh-“ his eyes suddenly found you lying asleep on your side.

“Shit”

“What?” Tommy asked.

“Nothin’” Joel responded quietly.

“I’ll be home soon, I’m fine, I’ll see ya in a bit” he flipped the phone shut before his brother could ask any more questions. Slowly pushing himself up he was careful not to wake you.

Joel couldn’t remember much of what had happened the night before, he didn’t even remember falling asleep. Looking over at you still fully clothed he wondered if anything had happened between the two of you when he felt the button to his pants open.

“Oh Jesus..” he whispered realizing what that meant.

“Shit, fuck me-“ he continued to mumble to himself as he looked around the house to make sure he had everything he needed when the sight of the kitchen counter brought back a sudden flashback. Your ass against him as he fucked you from behind, he froze for a moment, his cock twitching in his pants from the memory when you suddenly moaned in your sleep. Turning against the couch you sighed and stayed asleep. Joel slowly took silent steps back before he reached your door and went back to his house.

“Where the hell have you been?” Tommy asked with a chuckle.

“Long story” Joel paced past him.

“You know Sarah’s coming back in a couple hours right?” Joel looked up realizing what day and time it was.

“Shit, yeah, yeah..course I remember”

“I gotta get to work, Joel. Ya sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah I’m alright, why wouldn’t I be?” He responded defensively. Tommy shrugged and walked out the front door. Joel had no idea how he was suppose to face his daughter after what he had done.

Sarah had returned and Joel had freshened up in a shower attempting to act as normal as possible.

“Hey, baby girl how was your trip?” Joel rubbed the back of his neck as Sarah threw her backpack on the couch.

“Hey, dad. It was great. I’m calling y/n to come over and help me with a paper I forgot is due in a couple hours. That ok?” Her question catching Joel off guard. He expected to see you around but not so soon.

“Ya don’t think maybe she’s busy or somethin’” he crossed his arms hoping she’d change her mind. Joel hadn’t faced what he’d done nor the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about what he could remember.

“I’ll try, if not then I guess I’ll just figure it out. It’s just she’s really smart and is really good with this class” Sarah turned away as she looked through the contact list on her phone and called you.

“I bet she is” he mumbled to himself.

Waking up to your phone ringing you saw Sarah’s name making you gasp. Quickly looking up you had realized Joel was no longer across from you.

“Joel?” You called out to see no sign of him anywhere near. Picking up Sarah’s call you were surprised with her invite as you walked around the house to make sure Joel wasn’t anywhere until you heard his voice in the background over the phone. When you did, your heart slightly dropped..

Joel had left without saying a word, you felt like an idiot. Now dreading to go to her house you tried to find excuses as she begged you for your help.

“Please, I really need to pass this paper. I’ll never ask you again” she assured you. With a sigh you gave in and washed up ready to go.

Anxiously waiting for Sarah to open the door you took a deep breath until she greeted you with a smile.

“I’m so glad you’re back” you hugged her as Joel silently stepped out of the kitchen.

“I’m so happy to see you” she smiled as she turned to her father.

“Isn’t it good to see her? Feels like forever” Sarah laughed as you stood awkwardly staring at Joel. Of course you came to his house in a damn dress, his shoulders tense as he caught himself checking you out.

“Good morning, Mr.Miller” you whispered politely.

“Mornin’, anything I could get you girls?” He asked turning to Sarah as you quickly looked away. The way your heart was racing, you were surprised Sarah didn’t feel it with how tightly she hugged you.

“No it’s ok dad, I got us some bagels” Sarah walked into the kitchen as Joel stole a quick glance at you.

“Come on y/n, come sit with me” Sarah called out for you from the kitchen table.

“Right” you chuckled anxiously before walking towards Joel who stood at the doorway. His eyes never leaving yours as you squeezed by him face to face to enter the kitchen.

As you sat down Joel sat in the living room and turned on the tv. Your mind was so distracted you had no idea how you’d be able to work on this paper with Sarah. Her phone buzzing on the table made you both look up.

“Who is it now?” she sighed before picking up the call.

“Yes this is she” she responded before looking at you annoyed.

“This is gonna take a few minutes- sorry” she whispered quickly before running upstairs.

You nodded and quietly looked back down at the book before you when Joel unexpectedly walked into the kitchen thinking you had gone upstairs with her. You could tell by the hesitation in his step walking in he wasn’t expecting to see you there. Walking past you he opened the fridge and grabbed a water bottle as you held yourself still. You waited for him to speak first…hoping he would.. but you couldn’t hold yourself back.

“Look, I wasn’t expecting you to leave me a love letter but to leave without saying a word wasn’t cool” Joel took a sip of his water and walked back towards the door.

“So you’re just gonna ignore me?” He stopped in his tracks with his back to you mouthing a curse word to himself before turning to you.

“The hell do you want me to say?” He uttered low. You looked at him in disbelief, this man had known you for years and had nothing to say after having sex with you unexpectedly.

“Nothing” you stood up and slammed the book shut making him furrow his brows.

“What are you doin’?” He took a few steps forward.

“I’m leaving. You can barely look at me and-“

“Don’t leave-“ he looked back towards the stairs.

“She’ll suspect somethin’. Just stay and help her with that.”

“No, you can tell her I didn’t feel good or something-“ you began to shove your books in your bag.

“God dammit” he whispered in frustration.

“What the hell do ya want me to say huh?” He closed the distance between the two of you, the tone in his voice making you stop and look up.

“What do you want me to say? That I can’t stop thinkin’ about how wet I made you-“ his words shocking you as he cornered you back against the wall.

“That I can’t stop thinkin’ about the way you screamed for more” he whispered deeply, his eyes moving quickly between your eyes and lips. Fighting a fight within himself that he could no longer take he suddenly pulled you against him and kissed you aggressively. Your hands on his chest in shock but you allowed your tongue to dance with his. His lips finding their way down the side of your neck as he quickly unbuttoned his pants between you.

“Mr.Miller..” you whispered against his ear just as he suddenly picked you up against the wall. His pants already lowered, he reached beneath you under your dress for the feel of warmth between your legs. Your panties hot as he yanked them to the side and pushed himself inside you. You gasped with his lips against yours, his thrusts pushing your body up against the wall as you held onto him. Your nails digging into his back you moaned softly.

“Tell me you want me” he whispered roughly. Your heart racing with adrenaline as he fucked you in a way that you knew this was only for you and him to ever know of.

“I want you” you whispered.

“Please don’t stop-“ you panted.

“Oh honey, I wasn’t plannin’ on it” his thick Texas accent only making you more wet. He moved faster pushing in deeper as he caught you looking over his shoulder towards the stairs.

“Look at me” he demanded. He could see the excitement yet hesitation in your eyes, the disbelief that you were being fucked by your long time friend’s father…you didn’t want it to end.

“Hey, I’ll be right there in a minute alright?” Sarah called out from upstairs, your eyes widened as Joel silently comforted you with a kiss to your neck.

“You heard?” She called out again as Joel smirked at how nervous you became.

“Answer her, baby” he whispered in your ear.

“Y-yes, it’s fine!” You managed to say when you heard the door close.

“Mr.Miller-“ you cut yourself off as you felt a sensation begin to creep up on you.

“What is it, honey?” He teased as he thrusted faster, he watched the look on your face as an intense orgasm overcame you. Opening your mouth you almost screamed until he muffled your scream with a kiss.

“Oh my god…” you cried out in a whisper. Goosebumps throughout your body as waves of pleasure took your body on a high it had never been on before.

“Fuck, baby” he looked down to see his cock covered in your cum. The feel of you pulsating around him causing him to lose control and before he could get you back on your feet to pull out he accidentally came inside you.

“Fuck-“ he groaned against your ear, his hips jerked uncontrollably, your legs shaking as he held them up when you realized he was cumming.

“Wait, are you-“ he held himself still against you out of breath, his face buried in the crook of your neck. He couldn’t move.

“Oh my god…” you whispered.

Slowly Joel lifted his head up and looked down at you with defeat.

“I swear I ain’t mean to do that, baby” he slowly pulled out and let your legs down. Still holding you close you stared at his chest in shock when you both heard the door open. Joel quickly backed away lifting his pants up and left the kitchen, you fixed your hair the best you could when Sarah walked in.

“Sorry, it was a call about the classes I’m trying to switch this semester. A whole process” she sighed without looking at you, not noticing how awkward you looked.

“Why’d you put your stuff away?” She looked up and raised a brow.

“You ok?”

“Mhm” you lied as you felt Joel’s cum in your underwear.

“I’m gonna use the restroom” you quietly walked past her as she stared at you strangely.

Joel was nowhere to be found as you made your way to the bathroom. Locking the door shut you rinsed your face off with water and looked at yourself in the mirror. All these years you knew Joel and never expected anything like this to happen. Hell, your own father would kill him if he knew. You couldn’t believe what you had allowed, more so you couldn’t believe what you knew had only just begun…

[r1elle]

for my peace of mind i want to live in the belief that miya atsumu has AT LEASTTTT got to be a candidate in the “pretending to be nonchalant but horrendously failing at it” trope.

like can you just imagine ..

a just freshly out of the change room miya atsumu, —who, by the way, has his brothers clothes on. (he wants to make a cool impression, and unfortunately, it’s his brother who always has the better outfit choices between the both of them. though he’d rather die than admit it.) anywho, he’s outside of the gym on standby to see if you had already walked past the building at your usual time. (he knows because he’s timed it.)

and when he realizes you already did, and that he had missed to take advantage of that one time slot in your routine, he’s BUMMED. he’s bummed out like a bum in bum central. but it happens as much as it doesn’t, so he still can’t figure out why he’s so dejected whenever the outcome turns out to be the former. (maybe cause he’s just so in love with you like that ?? duh)

but anyway, cmon now. you really didn’t even stop by to see if you could catch a glimpse of him setting ?? serving ?? heck, even spiking ?!?! because he couldn’t care less whether or not you knew which position he played, or what move he often did on court—…okay, well, maybe he cared just a bit. but screw all that. he can just tell you all about it when he’s finally able to call you his ! because what’s most important right now, is you seeing him during the times when he looks his “absolute coolest”.

but goodness gracious you should see the complete 360 his expression does when he sees you laughing along with your friends near the vending machine, indicating you hadn’t fully left just yet. he’s basically grown dog ears, and they’re raised HIGHH. osamu just wants to throw up, especially even more so as he sees heart eyes practically being etched onto his twin brothers dna, and he could only hope it wouldn’t apply to him as well.

with this profound opportunity, atsumu suggests that maybe they should buy something from the vending machine using their remaining coins. (“their�� as in osamu’s. atsumu has .99 to spare, but he thinks he’ll save it for another day. perhaps to buy you those 50 cent candies at the nearby 7/11?).

“i’m thirsty. are ya not? c’mon. let’s use ‘em remainin’ cents.” though, anyone can see that it wasn’t a suggestion. it was a demand. (atsumu has never loved the “i was born 5 minutes before you.” card so hard in his entire life.)

osamu can’t help but feel the obvious desperation radiating off of his brothers anticipating expression, so he feels bad and says yes. atsumu internally thanks his brother, thinking that maybe telling him that ‘he should’ve ate him in the womb’ a couple of days ago was a bit mean.

but now that he’s infront of you, what should he do? the boy can physically feel his critical thinking skills melting away.

and so, with little time to actually prepare, he settles on nodding his head towards yours as a greeting (? if it can even be called a greeting), avoiding eye contact as he poorly executes his cowardly advances. he internally wallows in doing so, because that was NOT what he wanted to do. gosh….why couldn’t he be as smooth as he was on court ?!?! what he wanted to do was,—

“hey,” [add in a lazy but still oozing with confidence expression. whatever looks nonchalant and cool!] “want this? i was gonna buy one for myself,” [handing off his coins with one hand while his other one goes off to casually brush his blond hair to the side,] “but eh. dun’ really want it. take it, if ya’ want.” [finishing off with a low-key but proud sniff as he shoves his hands onto his pockets.]

but no. that was not what had happened. at all.

instead, he’s now completely focused over to the vending machine, his eyes directly staring onto the drink he had caught glimpse of you already drinking. (how could he not? it was the whole reason his plan backfired.)

well. at least he was able to give out a (puny) nod at you.

before he could even do anything else to salvage this already weak pursuit of his, atsumu hears you and your friends’ conversation exit out of his earshot. assuming that you were now further away from him, his knees seem to find themselves giving in.

one may think it was due to the exercises coach had given for todays practice.

but miya atsumu is a star volleyball player who yields the magic of ‘athleticism’. so surely, the runs up the mountain during todays agenda should hardly be the reason of any damage caused on the blonds already well maintained physique.

and surely,

heated cheeks, rapid beating of the heart, growing sense of frustration, and a yearning for some sort of impactful interaction with you..

wouldn’t qualify as side effects of hard practice, right?

“stop leanin’ on the vending machine like that, ya’ idiot.” osamu snidely comments, and his ‘face-mushed-to-the-vending-machine’ twin brother can only groan in response.

——

the walk back home is surprisingly quiet, until a low grumble decides to finally greet the silence.

“i was supposed to talk to her.”

“maybe that lame nod told her all that ya’ needed to say.”

“it ain’t my fault she already had a drink in her hand!”

“yeah, yeah. sure. ya’ still looked lame, though. i almost felt bad.”

“shut up! ya’ don’t know what it’s like to be a man in love!”

“…..….”

a silence.

a silence from atsumu who’s now just truly realized how doomed he was.

a silence from osamu who wonders if the person behind them had heard atsumu’s rather flamboyant confession.

“love, huh? didn’t know you were that deep into her.”

“ARRRRRRVHHHHGGGGGGGGGH! SHUT YER’ TRAP, SAMU’!! I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHIN’ !!!”

and of course,

a silence from you, who couldn’t help but just take the longer way back home, all because it meant getting to walk a few steps behind him. (even if he had always failed to notice you doing so, every. single. time.)

i was thinking of ryu sunjae from lovely runner while making this … i hope most ppl will see the vision 💔💔 I JUST LOVE LOSER MEN WHO JUST LOVE THEIR PARTNERS SO VERY MUCH !!!!

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Baboom

Debut: Super Mario Bros. Wonder

Baboom is my number one favorite new enemy from Wonder! In the days after the game's release, I was extra careful during what felt like the eternity before I got to play it myself (it was a week at most.) to not spoil anything for myself, and I succeeded, mostly! Yippee! And while I was playing through the beginning of the game, at least three friends all individually told me there was one enemy that they felt I would absolutely love. And they were right!

Let me tell you. I gasped when I saw it. I gasped when I saw this little waddling plastic tube. You know me! I do things like that. Its pure white eyes. Its adorable little trot. Its use of primary colors like some kind of baby's toy. But don't give it to a baby! This is explosive! You also shouldn't give any living creature to a baby! Why would you do that? You should be giving it some mashed carrots instead.

Speaking of babies though, it is Baboom who is the baby here, because it is canonically the newest of the living bombs produced by Bowser's Minions! What a little darling! It may be a little unclear what exactly it does at first, but when attacked, Baboom will begin shooting fireworks directly upward, one for each body segment! This "uses up" each segment, including the last one, but they don't actually explode themselves. Do you think they can still live after this? A "spent" Baboom, a single red segment, living a peaceful life wherever it landed? That would be nice.

I hate fireworks. Far too loud and bright. But Baboom makes it fun! It can be carried, and its fireworks used as an upward attack, defeating enemies, breaking blocks, and making coins fall! It is so enriching to shoot upwards in a Mario game. These fireworks cannot hurt the player, which seems like a big problem for a weapon made to fight Mario. An enemy that defeats enemies, and does not hurt our heroes? My word! Can this be? The classic and beloved story trope of a weapon made for evil rebelling against the circumstances of its creation? Hooray! Who says Mario games don't have complex stories? Look at the motivation I personally ascribed to this one disposable bomb. What are the other enemies thinking at any given time? There's surely a stunning story in every Snortoise!

Wonder has all these cute little animations for enemies bumping into each other, and Babooms will do a little... nod? toward one another when they meet! It's hard to tell if it is a nod given its anatomy, but whatever it is, I think it is saying "hello my friend!"

I would be remiss to talk about Baboom without mentioning Kab-omb, the ORIGINAL firework Bob-omb variant! I like Baboom more, but I hold a lot of respect for Kab-omb. A bomb just looking for a kiss, or maybe a glass of chocolate milk with a bendy straw. Is that so wrong?

[ho-for-joequinn-fics]

I know I said I wasn’t going to write anything else for this blog, buuuuut... I just had to get this idea out of my head.

Emperor Geta x f!servant reader

warnings: 18+ only! Minors DNI! mean!Geta (ofc), face slapping, insulting names (bitch, cunt, whore), degradation, oral (forced throat fucking), spanking, unprotected p in v smut, rough sex, creampie, profanity (obvi 💀), a happy ending yay for both Geta and Reader yay!, etc

You were a mere servant, never really caring to catch the attention of either of the Emperors, but unbeknownst to you, you had caught the undivided attention of one. Emperor Geta.

To you, Geta was a power hungry and extremely pompous asshole. And you weren’t afraid to say so. You’d never say it to his face though, knowing the consequences could quite possibly end with your demise, and you weren’t ready for death yet.

“I think he’s into you,” Mabel, one of your fellow servants, whispered while the two of you organized Emperor Geta’s wardrobe, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “You should see the way he looks at you.”

“Who?” You asked, hoping she wasn’t about to say who you thought she was going to say.

“Emperor Geta.” She responded with a sheepish smile, hanging up one of his robes in its respective place.

You scoffed at that, giving your head a shake as you responded in a not as hushed manner. “I sure hope to the gods that he isn’t. Geta is a pompous asshole. I’d love to smack that cocky smirk off of his stupid fucking face.”

You noticed the way her body language and demeanor immediately shifted, back straightened and eyes wide as she seemed to stare behind you. He’s behind me, isn’t he? You slowly turned around towards where her gaze was fixed, mentally slapping yourself for expressing your feelings about Emperor Geta right in front of him. You didn’t even realize he was in the room.

He was giving you a displeased glare, pupils blackened as he seemingly burned a hole right through you. “Come here. Right now.” He demanded, his pointer finger pointing towards the floor directly in front of him, ready to fix that disrespectful mouth of yours.

“Make me.” You scoffed, turning away from him to continue your work. You weren’t about to give in to his demands when you were trying to finish your duties that he assigned you in the first place. “Pompous asshole.”

Mabel gasped at your disobedience, her gaze dropping to her feet when Emperor Geta stomped his way over to you. She’d never speak to him like that, she knew better and she feared him more than anyone in all of Rome.

Geta grabbed you by the arm and forcefully spun you around, his ringed hand laying a harsh, reprimanding smack across your face. Your head whipped to the side from the force, but you weren’t going to back down. Not yet. “You better watch your tongue, you disrespectful little bitch. I own you, so you will do as I fucking say. Got it?”

You stared up at him with defiant orbs, your fists clenched by your sides to prevent yourself from smacking him like you so desperately wanted. You could have apologized and moved on from this, but you enjoyed egging him on, wanting to see how far you could push him and if your disobedience would get you killed after all. Or if he was into you like Mabel suspected, then maybe he’d make an exception. Maybe he’d someway, somehow start to like this defiant side of yours. “Own me? You don’t, own me. I belong to no one but myself. You just think you own me because you’re a self righteous dick with power.”

Geta took in a deep breath through his nose, jaw clenching tightly at your continued disobedience. You used to be so innocent, so obedient to his every demand, what happened to that version of you? If only he knew you were intentionally getting under his skin. “If you’re going to run your mouth like a cunt, then I’m going to treat you as such.”

Immediately he was forcing you onto your knees, giving your face another harsh slap when you tried standing back up. “Stay on your fucking knees. If you’ve got nothing of value to say, then I’m going to put this mouth to better use.” He quickly freed his cock from beneath his tunic and robe, thankfully not wearing his armor at this very moment.

You had to prevent yourself from widening your eyes at how endowed he was, not wanting to give him that ego boost when his ego was already through the roof. His shaft was girthy and long, and the vein running along the length of it was visibly throbbing already. Maybe I should have disrespected him way before now if this is what I get in return.

“Open your fucking mouth and don’t make me tell you twice.” He growled, grabbing your face in his hand and squeezing your cheeks hard enough to get you to part your lips for him. As soon as your jaw dropped open, he was forcing his cock into your mouth, groaning deeply when he hit the back of your throat. “Hollow your cheeks, whore.”

You automatically choked on his cock once he reached the back of your throat, hollowing your cheeks and taking a deep breath through your nose just before he started ruthlessly thrusting back and forth, choking even more when he reached to plug your nose thus cutting off any possible supply of oxygen you could get. Maybe he is going to kill me. At least I’ll go out with his cock down my throat.

“Look at you, already choking on my cock and I’ve only just started.” He mused with a snarky smirk, making you roll your eyes in mock annoyance. His hand gripped on your hair at the back of your head while his hips repeatedly snapped forward, using his grip to force your face to meet each thrust down your throat, smirking even wider when it pulled a garbled moan from your throat. “Oh you like that, huh you filthy whore? You like it when I violate your throat? Hm?”

You couldn’t help it, you moaned even louder, your eyes rolling into the back of your head for different reasons now. You hated to admit it, but the way he was throat fucking you with no remorse had you dripping, your pussy pulsating with each inconsiderate thrust down your throat. As much as you wanted to take a breath through your nose, you couldn’t, so you tried with all your mental and physical energy to stay conscious while he took his frustration towards you out.

Geta kept his gaze on your face as he forced himself down your throat, a wider smirk tugging at his lips when he noticed tears started to spill from the corner of your eyes. He wondered to himself if this was making you learn your lesson or if you were going to continue pushing his buttons to see what else he would do to you. He couldn’t deny it, your defiance which led to this moment made him hope you would test him some more, especially since your mouth and throat felt divine. He could only imagine how your cunt felt.

You snapped your gaze back on him when your lungs started to burn from lack of oxygen, looking up at him with eyes begging him to let you breathe, your fingers gripping onto his pristine robes to prevent yourself from collapsing. “Mmf!” You whimpered, one of your hands moving to wrap around the wrist of his hand still plugging your nose.

Geta took the hint and released your nostrils from between his fingers, letting you catch your breath through your nose while he continued abusing your throat with his cock. He watched as the color of your face returned to normal now that oxygen returned to your lungs, but your tears still resumed spilling down your face. “If you’d listened to me the first time, I wouldn’t have been so cruel while I throat fucked some respect into you.”

You narrowed your eyes to glare up at him, lifting your hand to give him the middle finger which only had him grinning sadistically. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but part of you felt that your life wasn’t on the line, he was just really going to put you in your place if you continued your disobedient acts towards him.

He suddenly pulled his cock out of your mouth, allowing you ample opportunity to take multiple deep breaths to fully satiate your lungs while he glanced over at his other servants who were trying their best to ignore what was happening. “Leave us.” He ordered, waiting until the few of them scurried out of his chambers and the doors closed behind them.

Now your heart was pounding in your chest, hoping to the gods that he wasn’t going to kill you now that the two of you were alone. You hissed when he yanked you off the floor by the hair and forced you to look at him, him smirking at how swollen your lips had become from being wrapped around his cock. Gods he’s so cocky.

“You are very lucky that you’re my favorite. If it had been one of those servants who just left to disrespect me like this, their throats would have been slit the moment their disrespectful thoughts left their mouth.” His eyes roamed your face as he spoke, before he was dragging you over towards his bed and forcefully bending you over it. “Now you’re going to lay here like the obedient girl I know you can be while I deliver a well deserved punishment and you’re going to apologize for your blatant disrespect as I do so, got it?”

“Yes, Augustus.”

Geta grinned impishly at that, finally seeing an inkling of obedience from you again. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? Keep that up and I’ll have forgotten all about your disobedience in no time.” His hands gripped onto the fabric of your skirts and yanked them upwards before moving to your undergarment beneath and ripping it in two right off of you, giving his lips a lick at the sight of your plush ass cheeks.

You gasped at the sheer strength in his actions, biting down on your bottom lip as his fingers started tracing along your supple flesh before letting out a loud cry when his hand came down with a hard whack. “I-I’m sorry, Augustus!” You gasped, bracing yourself for the second smack you knew was coming, crying out again when it was received.

“I’m sorry Augustus for...?” He inquired, wanting a detailed apology and nothing less.

“I-I’m sorry for disrespecting you! For calling you such mean things, for not obeying your commands, for...for intentionally getting under your skin to see how far I could push you!” Your cries grew louder when his spanks grew more harsh, fresh tears spilling down your face all over again.

“And...?”

“And I’m sorry for saying you don’t own me! I-I’m yours! All yours, Augustus! I belong to you and you only! I-I’ll do anything you ask of me, like an obedient servant does!” You braced for more spanks, but they never came. Letting out a shaky breath, you dared to look over your shoulder, finding Geta staring down at you with something new in his eyes.

“You’ll give me my heir, that’s what you’ll do for me.” He gave you no warning before he was slamming his entire length inside you, your scream so loud, your pleasure could be mistaken for murder. A guttural moan erupted from his throat when he felt how tight and wet you were, his fingers digging into your hips as he started repeatedly slamming his cock in and out of you. “Fuck, I’ve never felt a more perfect cunt in my life. She’s all mine now. Say it!”

“She’s all yours, Augustus! All yours!” You squealed as you took every harsh thrust of his cock into you, the pain mixed with pleasure a feeling you never wanted to forget. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head with each ram against your cervix, fists clenched tightly into his sheets while you started squeezing around his cock. “Right there! Right there!”

Geta groaned at the way your walls squeezed around his cock, repeatedly aiming for that exact spot so they’d continue to do so, needing the added pleasure to coax him closer to his release. He wasn’t going to stop fucking you until you were filled to the brim with his seed. “Keep fucking squeezing me, going to claim my perfect cunt by filling her with my cum.”

You did just as he demanded, giving squeeze after squeeze after squeeze around his cock while he ruthlessly fucked you until finally he was tossing his head back with a roar and filling you with thick, heavy loads of his cum just as you coated his cock with your own cum. You buried your face into his bedding with a mewl as he filled you, not stopping your squeezes until he told you to.

“That’s enough.” He hissed after a minute, slowly pulling out of you once your vise-like clenches ceased and allowed him to easily slip out of you. He rolled you over onto your back after a moment before lifting you up to place you further up his bed, grabbing one of his pillows and using it to raise your hips up so not a single drop of his seed would go to waste. “Now you stay right here while I go tend to some important matters. Don’t let anything drip out of you, okay? Gotta be sure my seed takes.”

You gave your head a nod, watching as he fixed himself up while a thousand thoughts started swimming around your mind. You couldn’t stand him this morning, but now he was everything you could ever need. Did this change things between the two of you? Did he really want a servant to be the one to bear him his heir? Were you more than just a servant to him now? You needed to know.

“Augustus...” You whispered, nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you prepared yourself for the questions you had.

“Hmm?” He inquired, tossing your destroyed undergarments to the floor after cleaning his cock of your cum before tucking it back beneath his tunic.

“You don’t really want me to be the one to bear your heir, do you? I’m just a lousy servant... Don’t you want someone of a higher status to be the one to do so?” You frowned, your gaze refusing to meet his as you fiddled with your thumbs.

Geta sighed, moving to sit down beside you on the bed and reaching for your hands to still their anxious movements. “Look at me.” He commanded in a more gentle tone now, waiting for you to look up at him before continuing. “You’re not just a lousy servant. I’ve been wanting to make you more than that since your parents sold you into servitude, I just had to wait for the proper time to do so.”

“Really?” You blushed, completely taken aback by his confession.

“I did tell you you’re my favorite and I didn’t mean as a servant, I meant in general. I knew you were special when I first laid eyes on you.” He chuckled, bringing your knuckles to his lips for a kiss. “I’m sorry if I was too hard on you earlier. I just, I don’t take too kindly to that level of disrespect and when you kept pushing, my resolve snapped. I wasn’t expecting my favorite girl to say such cruel things about me.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, a soft frown on your face. “I only thought those things about you because I still have so much pent up anger over my parents selling me to be a servant. I guess I just never gave you the chance to prove yourself to be more than what you show yourself to be to everyone else in Rome.”

“Will you give me that chance now? Will you let me show you that there’s more to me than meets the eye?”

“Of course.” You smiled, your breath catching in your throat when he cupped your cheek and leaned in to press a deep kiss to your lips, your hands cupping his face as you kissed him in return.

“Thank you. I promise you, you will not be disappointed.” He breathed into the space between your mouths as he rested his forehead against yours. “I have some things I need to tend to right now, but I promise come tomorrow, you will no longer be a servant.”

Geta held true to his promises, proving to you that deep down he had more than a heart of stone, and turning you from the servant you were sold to be into the Empress you were destined to be. You never would have anticipated marrying the man you once despised, but now you wouldn’t change it for a thing.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 🩷 This was annoyingly difficult for me to write because I just couldn’t get the words to flow how I wanted, so I hope you enjoyed how it turned out 🥺

Tagging some Emperor Geta sluts 🩷 @nailbatanddungeon @usergeta @somethingvicked @ceriseheaven @littlexdeaths @3rd-conchord @jasminelafleur @eddiesxangel

[creativewritersposts]

bad person - Matt Rempe

summary; Matt Rempe x reader

Matt didn't react perfectly to a fan and thinks he's a bad person. Which he's not.

warning(s); maybe grammar errors, fluff!!, insecurity

author's note; I'm definitely too bored I'm sorry for spamming with so many fics 💀 I'm hyped to share this one with you. It's my favorite so far! 🥹

--------------------------------------------------------------

"you look beautiful", Matt grins at you, you only can rise your eyebrow. "What did you do?", is your reply. You're doing laundry and definitely not looking beautiful. "Can I tell you a secret?", he plays with his fingers. You look at him, "sure, honey". He's a soft soul so you know it's important for him. "Do you think I'm a good guy?", he's intimidated. "Of course!", you put down the socks and giving him your full attention.

"I don't feel like that", he whispers, head hanging down. "oh baby", you rub his back and put your chin on his shoulder. "You're a golden retriever, why would you think that way?", comforting him.

He quietly huffs, you can see he's pensive. "I ignored a fan", he is sad. "i bet it wasn't on purpose, honey", you kiss his neck. "doesn't mean you're a bad person, Matt", you smile. Your chest feels heavy because it hurts to see how Matt thinks about himself, which is not true.

"She told the whole tumblr fandom I'm rude", he drops his back to the front. "you're on Tumblr?", you re-ask him. "I know you have a hockey blog but I really don't care. I'm disgusted about myself right now",he looks frustrated. He is frustrated. "Matt look at me", you force him lovely to look into your face. "You're the best thing that ever happened in my life and you're definitely not a bad person. You were like a dad for your sister, you love your family, you're very nice to your fans and you're a good hockey player!", you tell him. "If i wouldn't be rude this girl would be happy", he argues with a whiny voice crack. "You're the nicest person ever. One fan yelled at you and you hugged him", remembering him from his past actions.

"Do you want me to talk with her?", you pet his cheek. Every time you look at him you're speechless how someone can look so perfect. "No", Matt shakes his head and stands up. "I'll make dinner", he gives you a fake smile.

"Don't feel bad because you're a living human", you get worried. It's something he learned in his childhood; 'I have to be strong'. It's not like his mom preached him, he's just very protective. It's his instinct.

"I should change myself to be a better person", he speaks out his mind, "why should you change?", you're confused. He's a living teddy bear and you would know if he's a bad person.

"to be a better person", he takes the pan and his smile doesn't reach his eyes, it's a sad smile.

"You're already enough", you hug him tight. He replies your hug and his head falls down in your neck. "I feel overwhelmed, you know", he bites his teeth together, angry about himself. "some players ask fans to show them their boobs, you're definitely not a bad person!", you answer your directly mind. "I need to be a role model", he whines. "Your sister is a very nice person and you're also this lovely like her. She adores you. Kids adore you fighting like a tiger", you giggle about these GIF's of bloody Matt on ice. "why are you giggling?", he asks confused. "Nothing ", you giggle again. "You think about these fight GIF's about me you posted on Tumblr", he gets ironic.

"Noo", your voice is playful. "Your caption was 'delicious'", a smirk escapes his mouth. "We won't talk about this one right now", you wink. "You can tell me when I'm the hottest player!", he pretends to be a diva. "I'll not, that's weird".

"babe after reading your things on your blog nothing is weird anymore", he kisses your forehead.

[bellarkeselection]

Omg I have an idea Jaime x reader. Reader is a servant and Jamie is I love with her and they are together secretly but everyone knows because they have 2 children and cersie hates reader because she took Jamie from her and Jamie defends reader every chance he gets. Plus if the children are older maybe Joffrey has a crush on there daughter idk it just poped into my head.❤️❤️❤️

You’re Better Than Any Proper Lady

Quickly walking through the halls of the Red Keep I finally made it back to my chambers at the other end of the castle shutting the door quickly. Leaning my back against the door I quickly heard two sets of feet running directly at me giggling like crazy. “Mommy!” Two sets of arms embraced me in a warm hug.

“Ohhh hi babies. You’re daddy is coming shortly. I should have the rest of the night off for now.” Breaking the hug I put a hand on each of my children’s shoulders. The kids weren’t twins but they almost looked like they were in my opinion.

My daughter Laina had her father’s bright blonde hair that was in a braid falling down her back and my eye color. Whereas my son Alex had my hair color but it was almost as bright as her father’s. Yet he had his father’s eye color. Someone knocked three times on the door where I turned my head around getting to my feet. Opening the door the figure that had golden hair moves past me the second I locked the door behind the knight. "Cersei wants to see the both of us later tonight. I tried to tell her it wasn't necessary but she wouldn't take no for an answer...I've missed you."

“I’ve missed you too. What do you think she wants to talk with both of us about. I mean I thought we were doing a good job of keeping our relationship and the kids a secret. So that you don’t get in trouble with King Robert.” I told Jaime when he wrapped his arms around me in a hug kissing the crown of my forehead.

He held me in his arms with my hands resting on his armor chest with his green eyes focused on mine. “I’ve told you when we started this relationship between you and I. That I don’t care what other people think of us. If they know about the kids then I’ll stand by your side and defend you always.”

“I know you will, Jaime. Everyone may say you are an oath breaker. But I know you better than everyone else does.” Moving myself away from his arms I turned to our kids who were waiting to just embrace him like crazy. “Go on you two.”

Laina and Alex didn’t waste a second before they ran forward when he bent down on his knees opening his arms. “Ohh there’s my little lion and lionesses.” He hugged each of them when they throw their tiny arms around his neck smiling into his shoulders.

Watching Jaime embracing his kids that were on the ground right in front of me. Wrapping my arms around myself I smiled at their interaction. Jaime and I knew that our relationship couldn’t be out in the open but that wasn’t something important to me or him. With our different status ranks it was rare for a servant and a former heir to a household who had become a member of the Kingsguard would end up together. “Daddy, are you going to be able to stay the night this time?” Alex asked his father with those hopeful eyes focused on him.

“Oh I don’t know..” Jaime started to say hating to not be able to say yes without hesitation.

Laina tugged his right hand giving him puppy dog eyes trying to convince him into saying only yes and nothing else. “Please daddy. We want to spend more time with you.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Come here.” He sent them a smile kissing each of their foreheads before he rose to his feet beside me knowing we had to go see whatever his sister wanted. If we didn’t she would come and figure out that Jaime had fathered other children with someone else that wasn’t her. And that wouldn’t end well for either of us.

Hugging our kids quickly I kissed their heads shooing them away back into the spot that we hide them from the staff that would patrols even the servants chambers at odd times without our knowledge. The only reason I knew about it was because Jaime saw one of the spies searching one morning. “I’ll be back in little while. Don’t answer the door unless you hear three knocks on it.”

“You’re worrying too much. It’s starting to show Y/n. You need to remain like we have nothing to hide from her.” Jaime warned me while we walked beside each not holding hands moving through the halls on our way to the Queen’s chambers.

Slumping my shoulders I huffed trying to take some breathes to calm my nerves down. "She's the queen of the seven kingdoms and your sister. She could put our head on spikes if she wishes. Especially since she'll probably think that I stole you away from her. There's not really a good answer to our situation."

Jaime slowly opened the door letting me walk in first and he shut it behind himself. Shifting my gaze forward I held in my breath seeing the queen of the seven kingdoms sitting at a table by the open window. Cersei Lannister leans back in her chair gesturing for us to join her. "Ser Jaime. Lady Y/n, please sit with me."

Slowly together we moved and sat down across from her where I gulped being the first one to break the silence in the room. "You're grace, I'm afraid I have to ask why exactly did you request us here?"

"I want you to know that you aren't worthy of my brother. You might have been somewhat worthy of him if you were born from a noble house but you aren't. You came here as a servant to me. And I know of the little ones you have given him. But don't think for a moment that he will show devotion to you!' She growled gripping the wine cup in her hands.

Parting my mouth opened I didn’t know what to say to her. “Your grace, I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

“Oh cut the crap, servant girl. I know that the two kids who occasionally follow you around aren’t just yours but my brothers as well. Did you really think that I wouldn’t be able to notice the blonde hair and green eyes mixed with your physical features!” The queen cut me off with her sharp tongue. “Jaime and I belong together. You don’t deserve him and he doesn’t deserve you!”

Jaime slide his chair back with his hands resting on the table raising his voice towards his sister shocking the both of us. “You don’t get to talk about her that way. She is a better woman and lover than you will ever be. And I will be marrying her someday!”

Cersei jumped up to her feet slapping him straight across the cheek. “You lying cunt. Tell me you’re be a liar, Jaime!”

“Jaime?” I trailed off staring up at him taken back by his words.

His blonde hair was slightly falling in front of his green eyes but he didn’t have that cheeky smirk on his face and he didn’t look to be joking. He turned his hands into fists at his sides standing tall against his twin sister the queen. “I'm not joking, Cersei. I am falling in love with Y/n and our kids. And she is better than any high born lady..she's better than you ever were to me!"

"How dare you speak to me that way. I am the queen - I am your sister. We belong together, you and I. I will put your heads on spikes if you walk out that door!" She sent me a death glare where I gulped.

I didn't want to get in between the sibling fight. Even though I basically already was at this point. Jaime leans forward glaring at his twin sister knowing how to show he was confident in his words. "You won't be able to do anything once I tell father that his line is secure with two Lannister heirs."

"They're not born of noble blood. What makes you think that he will ever agree to your terms?" She teased him leaning on the table the same way he was with her blonde hair waving down her shoulders.

He didn't let his confidence drop at any time. "Because he told me family is all that lives on. He will just care that I will be his heir and that I have given him too grandchildren." He turned away from his sister offering me his hand tugging me up to stand until we had made it back to his chamber door.

Lifting my gaze up to his I squeezed his hand needing an answer. "I...I can't believe you said that to her. After everything that you've been through with her..and yet you chose me. And I don't get why we are at your chambers. The kids will wonder where we are at."

"I just want a few moments with you, Y/n." He responded with a bright smile kicking open the door dragging me inside pressing my back against the closed door. "Nothing I said in there was just for show. I meant every part of it. I want to marry you, Y/n. I want you to be my wife and the lady of Casterly Rock."

Wrapping my arms around his neck I smiled pulling his lips down onto mine. "I'd be honored to be your wife, Jaime Lannister. I think I am falling in love with you too"

"I'll talk with my father tomorrow. Now I just time with you and our kids." He responded wrapping his arms around my waist drawing me in for another kiss feeling me smiling into the long awaited kiss.

Comments really appreciated ❤️ Tag list - @makeshift-prime @rosie-posie08 @lover-of-books-and-tea

[what-gs-watching]

“You’re getting the fuck of a lifetime, tonight.”

OKAY friends. As we all well know by now, I am, and have been, utterly devoted to David Tennant in all forms for a long time. The man is incredible. He’s everything. He can do no wrong. 

So I was obviously out of my mind excited about Rivals. Have I read the book? No. Should I probably have joined the GOAD subreddit book club to understand what I was getting into? Yeah, absolutely. But I did not.

Y’all. Does anyone else feel personally victimized by this show? Show of hands? No? Am I just a sensitive bitch right now? Fair.

I should have expected that David Tennant’s character was a true creep because I know he likes to mix it up, that’s on me, but I did not expect to feel so many WAYS about things. Wasn’t this supposed to be like a fun, sexy romp set in the 80’s wherein I could just shake my head at British people being british?

I really came into this show knowing basically nothing. I definitely need to stop doing that.

AKA, wherein a bunch of pompous Brits living in the Cotswolds fuck each other’s wives or husbands or neighbors or WHOEVER and fight over who should control the local television rights - David Tennant’s insanely charismatic and crazy manipulative Lord Tony Baddingham, or intrepid Irish interviewer Declan O’Hara and unlikely ally MP and former olympian Rupert Campbell-Black.

LISTEN, TV, don’t make comments on the difficulties of marriage and love and other things, directly into my face. I don’t like it. It makes me squirmy, and I hate you. 

In the beginning, I really did not like Rupert and was yelling about him being a fucking creep, and I was letting Lord B off the hook for some of his weirder behavior but wooooof, what a journey those eight episodes take you on. I do appreciate character growth, or also, I guess, character…descent? Because Tony absolutely fucking unravels. 

Something about absolute power corrupting absolutely?

Also, there are a ton of characters in this thing. And I’m obviously gonna fixate on Lord B but I have to be honest, Lizzie, neighbor to the O’Hara’s and wife of one of the tv personalities at Tony’s station, is my favorite part of this entire tapestry. She writes saucy novels and she’s underappreciated in her little life and she raises her kids and has an adorable best friend relationship with Rupert (which definitely helped me soften to him) and I connected with her way more than I should have.

She tries so hard to get her husband to pay her attention. She really wants to feel like he cares about her, that he thinks she’s worthy, and he never gives it to her. BUT then she meets Freddie, awkward tech magnate, and y’all. Their adorable, bumbling interactions are everything. He runs after a train when she leaves the chapters of her new book the train! He appreciates the hell out of her, and she does the same for him, because his wife is equally neglectful. 

I don’t think I’ve ever rooted so hard for someone to have an affair in my life. She deserved to get absolutely everything she wanted. We all do. And I don’t appreciate being EXPOSED like that. 

Anyway. We obviously can’t get into every single random storyline here, so we’re gonna hit the highlights, lightning round style.

I do really like Declan, and his relationship with his wife was interesting - she’s an actress so she’s always going to be dramatic but he seemed like he knew how to handle her, and I appreciated the passion they had together. I don’t love how they ended up, you can see he really does love her, but she doesn’t want to compete against his work for his affections. I get it. But like girl, you gotta give a little? But also, that shit is hard. Their relationship seemed like one of the realest, for sure. 

What I could not bring myself to be okay with, was Taggie’s (Declan’s 20 year old daughter) feelings for Rupert. I’m sorry y’all, no. Like, sure, Rupert becomes more of a person throughout the show and I appreciate that and I get that he maybe hasn’t ever really loved anyone but I’m not gonna sign up for the love story between the two of them. And usually I’ll sign up for anything. But I just can’t, I’m not sure why. It just still feels predatory to me. 

Will I eat those words if they make a season two? I suppose we shall see.

And now, Lord B. Tony-fucking-Baddingham. Foolishly at the start I was like, maybe he does care about his very typical, dowdy english wife. She looks very salt of the earth and sure it’s surprising she’s not young and hot but man, they seem to work well together, they get each other. What’s gonna go down here? 

And then just kidding, he’s fucking Cameron Cook, the American female producer he hired to create amazing television for Corinium. Because of course he is. He does seem to think she really is brilliant, but he wants to control that and own it and he somehow convinces himself he loves her? But the man is a sociopath. And I spent like, the final three episodes yelling “GIRL, he’s gonna try to murder you, like for real tho…”

But then he does shit like dancing with her at a restaurant while crooning along to a stripped down version of “Love is a Battlefield” and I’m like, maybe he contains multitudes? But he doesn’t! There’s no fucking hesitation in any of the terrible shit he gets up to. That sweetness is purposeful. It’s gross and it’s mesmerizing. 

Bless Georgia Tennant for convincing him to take this role. I hate it, and it’s wonderful.

Also, big fucking props to the way his proper wife lays down the law in the last episode. (Side rant: early on I was like ‘does he ever fuck his wife?’ and he does, and it’s so awkward, bless her. I get it babe, I really do). But she met her fucking limit and she didn’t shy away from it. We need more women standing up for themselves. Cameron does to a degree, but Monica is the true MVP in this mess. 

I think the worst part about this show is that it ends abruptly, honestly. You don’t get a lot of closure, everything is still up in the air and there’s a serious fucking cliffhanger and now I’m just mad and weirdly turned on and again, feeling a lot of ways about things. It’s very “thanks, I hate it.” 

Let’s be real, I showed up to this thing so I could ogle David Tennant in a new way. And I definitely got that - those fucking cigars! And the suits! That gorgeous, predatory smile! But I also got a lot more. I’m infuriated and confused and I need season two immediately. 

After all, Lord B did promise that he’d continue to make television we want. And even if he’s a horrible, terrible bastard, I’m gonna believe that.

Bonkbuster indeed.

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 21: Wriothesley x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 5459

Warnings: Afab!reader, prison, handcuffs, solitary confinement, abuse of power, desperation play, noncon, vaginal fingering, watersports, piss

A/N: Once again cutting it close but I made it!

⭐

Evidently kicking one of his guards in the face was enough to warrant a personal visit from the Duke of Meropide himself. Go figure. 

Cautiously straightening up from the grumpy slouch you’d fallen into against your cot, you look over to the narrow doorway at his sudden and unexpected entrance. You can’t help noticing that he appears to take up most of the doorframe with his tall, stocky build, the solitary confinement cell they’d shove you into so small that he seems to fill the already cramped space with his presence. And you don’t exactly like the way he shuts the door behind himself either. 

You’d only been a prisoner in the Fortress long enough to know its head warden was a rather elusive fellow who didn’t often make public appearances aside from the brief glimpses one could catch of him walking down the steel lined and reinforced corridors. Being on the receiving end of a one-on-one talk with him so early on in your sentence did not seem to bode well for the rest of your stay in this deep sea prison. 

“… what are you doing here?” You hedge, warily watching him lean back against the opposite wall directly across from you with his arms folded over his broad barrel chest. This was your first time seeing him up close like this, and you were admittedly rather impressed with how very large he was. 

Or maybe intimidated was the better word. 

Sighing faintly through his nose, Wriothesley settles into place and pins you with a level stare that doesn’t tell you much about his reason for being here, but it does seem to solidify that your initial thoughts on the matter were correct. This couldn’t be anything good. 

“You should be glad it’s only me.” He drawls in a surprisingly light, affable tone for what he was saying. “A few of the other guards wanted to handle our newest troublemaker themselves, but I know how they do things and I told them I’d take care of it. You’re a lucky little inmate if I do say so myself.”

You restlessly shift on top of your cot, shooting him a suspicious look. “Why would you do that?” 

He gives those broad shoulders of his a rather disinterested shrug. “You’re a woman. Simple as that. I generally try to be a bit more lenient with the fairer sex when I can, even when they foolishly decide to kick one of my guards in the face.”

You self consciously draw your bare feet in at that, tucking them under yourself where he wouldn’t be able to easily see how naked and bare they were after the penitentiary officers relieved you of your standard issue shoes for the transgression. As far as you saw it, your penance had already been paid. Both in the form of how very chilled your toes were and also the last few hours you’d spent in here with absolutely nothing to do. 

But the way he looks over at you with a vague air of stern authority reflecting in his chilly blue gaze seemed to suggest he was not in agreement with that estimation. 

“That doesn’t sound very on the up and up to me,” You murmur, listlessly flexing your wrists where they were restrained behind your back to test the give of the cuffs around them. Nope. Still just as unrelenting as the last time you’d checked. “Does the surface world know about this? Something tells me The Steambird would love nothing more than to run a scathing exposé about the questionable practices of not only the Fortress staff but its own Duke as well.” 

“I’m sure they would too. Luckily though they’re not going to get their hands on this information any time soon to run that article in the paper.” 

“You - -“

“I think that's enough banter for now.” He smoothly cuts across you, his mild tone leaving no room for argument on your part. “Let’s talk about you instead. Wanna’ tell me why you decided to attack one of my guards like that?” 

Primly sniffing, you turn your head to look elsewhere in the room but there’s not much else to focus your attention on other than the stand alone toilet in the corner and the wall. You settle on the wall. “I don’t see why I should explain myself to you.”

“You should do it because I asked. Nicely, I may add. I don’t have to be polite about it, just keep that in mind.” 

You can’t quite stop yourself from prickling slightly at the soft note of warning in his voice. What was with this guy? Either he was on a massive power trip down here where no one of a more civilized nature was there to keep an eye on him or he had an ego the size of Fontaine with the attitude to match. You really didn’t think you liked him very much. 

“Fine. I kicked him because he grabbed me even after I told him not to. I was defending myself. Simple as that.” 

Stirring at the bitter vindication in your voice, Wriothesley slowly unfolds his arms to let them hang loose down at his sides. It’s so slight and subtle, but something about the change in his body language does not make you feel very optimistic about how this was going to play out, and you anxiously shift on your cot again. 

“Interestingly enough, I heard a somewhat different story. You were refusing to cooperate and go where he was telling you to go. He only grabbed you, as you put it, to get your butt in gear. Isn’t that right?” 

“It was unnecessary.” You hiss back, hackles starting to rise. 

“Not in a prison it’s not. You’re expected to follow orders, little miss inmate. Without question. The guards are well within their rights to make you do something even if you don’t want to do it.” 

“Well, he didn’t need to touch me to accomplish that!” 

His brows taking a sedate trip up to his hairline, Wriothesley looks at you like he’s equal parts impressed and puzzled by your growing anger. Could he really not see what the problem was with having an unknown man suddenly putting his hands on you like that? If he'd get close enough you wouldn’t have minded giving him a good kick in the face too, and you think he must see that in your expression because he lets out a quick laugh.   

“Goodness, you’ve certainly got a short temper. I’m starting to see now how the situation escalated like it did. Maybe I should give you a bit more time to cool off and we’ll see if you’re feeling less mouthy when I come back.” 

You’re so shocked by the abrupt shift in the conversation that you just numbly watch him push off from the wall and make the short pivot towards the doorway, reaching out for the handle. It’s only when he’s got it halfway open and you realize he’s actually serious about leaving you in here even longer do you lurch forward with a jerk. 

“Wait!”

Wriothesley pauses and glances back at you. He doesn’t say anything though so you quickly rouse yourself, cobbling together a haphazard entreaty on the fly. 

“Please don’t go. I don’t like it in here. I’ll cooperate, I promise. Please?” 

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before lashing out like a brat then.” 

“I wasn’t being a brat! I just … I’ve never been in a prison before and I’m so scared. I’m not used to being around this many men. The guards were yelling at me and I panicked. I didn’t know what he was going to do to me. He could have really hurt me or — worse. I swear it was just self defense, I didn’t mean anything by it. Really.” 

Batting your lashes at him, you fix the Duke with your best sad look of helplessness and even conjure a filmy sheen of moisture into your eyes for effect. It was one of the trusty ace’s you kept up your sleeve and one that tended to work on even the most resolute, emotionally unavailable men, but Wriothesley just stares at you with a less than impressed frown tugging at his mouth now. Dammit. 

You hadn’t expected him to be completely immune to your ploys and feminine wiles, and you don’t exactly have a back up plan in mind as he shifts his weight back to thoughtfully settle inside the tiny room again. 

“Hmm. If I remember correctly … you’re the one who’s in for scamming people, aren’t you? Is that poor little put out face how you got all those gentlemen to sign over their life’s fortunes to you?” 

A genuine flush starts to crawl across your cheeks, more than slightly embarrassed at having your innocent act fail so miserably. “That has nothing to do with this. I’m telling you the truth.” 

“I bet.” Scoffing a quiet laugh, he once again brings his arms up to cross them, pinning you with a pointed look. “Cute trick though. I’m sure you’ll be quite disappointed to find it won’t work half as well as it did on the surface down here. Well, maybe with the male inmates it might get you somewhere I suppose. But it’s not going to do you any good with my guards and it’s certainly not going to have any effect on me. Perhaps you could give it a try on one of the female officers next?” 

You shoot him a biting look of warning at that, making Wriothesley chuckle another brief sound of amusement at your expense. 

“Ooh, how scary. It looks like someone is in need of a major attitude adjustment to me. But don’t worry, we’ll take care of that in due time.” Still quietly laughing, he begins to turn back towards the door. “Enjoy the rest of your timeout. I’ll see you again in a few hours.” 

Your eyes immediately pop open, widening to the approximate size of dinner plates, and you lurch forward again when he starts to push into motion. 

“Wait!” 

Pausing once more, Wriothesley turns just enough to peer over his shoulder at you. “What is it now?” 

“You can’t … what do you mean ‘hours’? You can’t leave me in here that long!” 

“Oh? Is that so.” 

You sputter at that, realizing in a distant sort of way that he was actually, really truly serious about this. Not only did he plan to leave you locked inside this solitary confinement cell for who knows how long but he was also perfectly comfortable with the notion. Not even an ounce of guilt or shame! 

“This is — it’s a human rights violation, isn’t it?” You desperately stammer, foolishly thinking you might be able to get through to him if you just reasoned with him enough. “No food, no water. Nothing but a paper thin blanket in here to keep me warm. And I thought you said you like to be more lenient with female inmates. Or was that just a trick to make me trust you?” 

Studying you for a long, drawn out moment, Wriothesley finally breathes out a slow exhale and rocks back to stand inside the small room with you yet again, fully this time so he can swing the door shut with a casual flick of his hand. 

“That only applies to the female inmates who don’t test my patience and make everybody’s job harder than it needs to be. I gave you a chance to get in my good graces and behave but you refused. Tell me why you think that should have earned you any sympathy from me.” 

“It’s not about sympathy, you ass.” You growl at him, furiously working your arms against the unbudging handcuffs behind your back. “It’s about common decency! You can’t treat people like this just because you’re on some tyrannical head trip. But if you’re so dead set on doing this then at least take these damn things off. I can’t even use the toilet like this!” 

“Sure you can. I bet you haven’t even tried yet.” 

“Ugh! You are infuriating! How am I supposed to pull my pants down or wipe like this? And — and I don’t even see any tissue paper in here! What am I supposed to use, my hand?” 

He makes a considering face at that, as if it was a reasonable enough idea and you were simply too unreasonable to see that, which just pisses you off even more. Perhaps you would have been a little less on edge and a little less focused on this particular problem if you didn’t have to pee so bad. You’d already been stuck in here for a tortuously long stretch of hours since the incident first happened, no way could you last a couple more. 

“Please.” You sob, letting some of your desperation bleed into your voice now. “You’ve already taken everything else from me. My freedom, my life, even my shoes! At least let me keep my dignity.” 

“I’m telling you,” He intones, the abrupt drop in his voice down to a strict whip crack startling you somewhat. “You do not need your hands to go. You’re being a bit dramatic about this, don’t you think? Or is it just that you want me to help you with it?” 

Your spine snaps ramrod stiff, a curling tendril of real unease snaking through your cramping gut now. Surely he couldn’t be … “You wouldn’t.” 

“Oh, but I certainly would. It seems to me you’re forgetting a rather important detail, miss. I’m in charge here, not you. I can do whatever I please whenever I so choose. Would you like to try me?” 

You reel back in abject shock, feeling your shoulders quake with the impotent rage coursing through your system. There was even a hint of fear underneath that red hot current too, if you were being honest. It just didn’t make sense to you how he could speak to you like this, treat you like this and threaten you like this, all in good conscience with nary a sign of guilt to show for it. And this was all somehow legally sanctioned by the powers that be? 

Clearly seeing the raging confusion and uncertainty on your face, Wriothesley takes a casual step towards you and you suck in a sharp little gasp. Quickly drawing your legs up onto the cot so you can kick at the thin mattress and scoot as far back from him as you can. There’s nowhere you can feasibly go with your shoulders against the wall though, and you realize just how limited your options really are in such a cramped space with no shortage of sinking dread. 

Undeterred by your frightened reaction, he comes to stand over you in only two short strides, further reiterating how very trapped and cornered you were in here. You try very hard to keep a brave face but you can’t quite manage to conceal it when he was looming there like that. He was just so big and obviously powerful, if the size of his arms was anything to go by, so of course you’d be scared! 

The helplessness of having your arms secured behind your back doesn’t help either, and all you can do is cower when he sedately reaches out a hand towards you. A multitude of possibilities fly through your head all at once, each worse than the last as you imagine what sort of humiliating trial he was going to put you through next. You probably should have just kept your big mouth shut. 

To your shuddering surprise though, he merely wraps his massive hand around the back of your neck in an unexpectedly gentle yet firm grip, nudging you from the wall just enough to fit his knuckles between. Wildly trembling there on the cot, you hesitantly tip your eyes up to look at him. You didn’t understand what he was doing. This was not what you’d imagined when he’d said he would help you, thinking he was going to drag you over to the toilet and take your pants down himself, or perhaps even make you urinate on the floor like an animal. That is not what seems to be happening though, and you have no idea what to make of it when he lifts his other hand to reach for your lap, tracking the motion with a great deal of fast mounting horror. 

He doesn’t even give you a word of warning before he does it, just unceremoniously shoving his broad palm between your legs to cup you through your pants, and you jolt so hard you nearly come right up off the cot. He keeps you in place with his hold on your neck though, leaving you with such a limited range of movement that all you can do is squirm in place, hissing at him like an incensed cat. 

“Wh - what are you doing? You can’t … you can’t touch me like this, you bastard!” 

“Well, that’s quite a mouth you’ve got, isn’t it? Perhaps you need to have it washed out with soap when I come back.” 

Whimpering softly when that casually delivered threat hits its mark, you uselessly kick your legs up in an attempt to fight him off but of course it doesn’t work. Even when you press your bare foot into the bend of his elbow and push he doesn’t even budge. The Duke just keeps holding your cunt in the palm of his hand like it was meant to fit there and you frantically clench the muscles in your lower body, the warmth of his hand suddenly making it feel like you need to go even more than before. This could not be happening. 

“Leave me alone!” You warble, starting to pant from the effort of trying to wriggle free while holding back the urge to empty your bladder at the same time. “This is — a gross abuse of power, do you hear me? You’re sick! W - what do you think you’re doing to me!”  

“I think I’m teaching you a lesson that you should have learned a long time ago.” He tells you, perfectly calm and collected despite all your restless fidgeting. “Given your attitude and the long list of crimes you committed, I’d wager you think yourself pretty much untouchable huh? And it may have even been true at one point but unfortunately for you that’s no longer the case.” 

Pinching your neck just tight enough to make you squeak a hurt little sound, Wriorhesley all but scruffs you like you were nothing more than a misbehaved kitten to make you be still. The sharp pinprick of real tears rushes into your eyes as you roughly seethe, painfully stiff and halting in his hold. Immobilized like this, you can only follow the motion of his other hand when he lifts it from your cunt to demandingly tug the waistband of your pants lower. 

“I’m afraid you’re playing by my rules now. And before you start in on it again, no, I will not be facing any recourse for it regardless of how much you throw a fit over it. This is my fortress, little miss inmate. You’d do well to remember that from now on.”

He reaches into your pants then, slipping rough, callous worn fingers straight down through the top of them, and you plaintively mewl at the gruff way he worms it lower to dip into the space between your legs. Even trying to squeeze your thighs shut isn’t enough to dissuade him and Wriothesley merely bullies them apart, stretching your bottoms out as he angles his hand downward to find your slit. 

The first indelicate swipe of a blunt fingertip over the fleshy crease makes you jolt so hard your head slams back into the wall with a dull thud. He doesn’t seem to care though, slowly working his digit back and forth for a drawn out moment to encourage the fleshy lips to part for him. And gradually, they do. Not of your own volition or even with any conscious thought to the matter, but the insistent nudge against your labia still has its intended effect. 

As soon as he can dip that finger inside you he does, spearing through fleshy creases and folds to locate your clit. He presses down on it firmly enough to make your thighs twitch around his wrist but he doesn’t hurt you, which manages to surprise you slightly. For a man who looked like he’d be more of a meathead than anything else, someone who was much too focused on stroking his own ego to concern himself with the pleasure of a woman, he’s unexpectedly adept at rubbing you just right. Not too soft yet not too hard, all while not missing his intended target completely. It was astounding in a way. 

You hate it though. Even when your body grudgingly responds to his steady ministrations and you feel your pussy start to warm up to the masculine presence between your legs, you still mentally curse him for everything he was worth. The one and only good thing about this is the more he keeps caressing over that responsive pleasure button the less urgent your need to go seems to be. Maybe this was good after all. If your cunt was too busy getting fingered you wouldn’t have enough time to think about how badly you needed to pee. 

“There. That’s a little better now, isn’t it?” He murmurs when you stiffly relax into it, rewarding you for your good behavior by bringing a second finger to your soft clit so he can caress you over a wider surface area now. “If you would have just listened to the instructions you were given we wouldn’t have to be doing this right now, would we? Maybe next time you’ll stop and think before you act out.” 

Groaning a soft sound of protest under your breath, you screw your eyes shut and try to turn your head away from him. He was far too close for your liking, his warm breath ghosting softly against your hair where he was bent close over you. But Wriothesley’s hold on your neck is as good as iron, and all you can seem to do is reluctantly shudder in place for him, earning a brief click of his tongue when you halfheartedly try to twist away from his hand. 

“Don’t get yourself all worked up again. And you were starting to look so obedient too. Just relax. I’ve got you, you little brat.” 

You noise a threadbare sound of disagreement into the suddenly static charged air, your legs flexing in vain against the sheets underneath you. It’s clear you were losing the fight though — and then he switches up the motion of his hand, going from carefully deliberate nudging at your clit to flattening those long, broad fingers over the apex of your mound so he can firmly drag them back and forth. The very sharp surge of sensitive arousal that shoots through you in response probably would have bowled you over on the spot if he hadn’t been keeping you held upright and in place, shuddering intensely with a faltering mewl. 

It makes your head positively spin from how potent it is as your hips reluctantly judder under the exquisite pressure. You were feeling more and more delirious by the moment, especially when you were aware of your pussy slowly wettening for him. He could feel it too, and he murmurs quiet words of praise at you for being so pliant for him. 

That alone is almost enough to lull you into a throbbing daze wherein you don’t even think to protest when Wriothesley finally directs his damp fingers even lower to press into your entrance. It’s only when he pushes in, smoothly sliding a thick digit into your cunt with enough soft, gooey friction that you woundedly lurch in your spot, and you abruptly snap out of it. 

Mild alarm registers in your mind at the unexpected penetration but it quickly ratchets up to full blown, squirming panic when you realize a moment later how insidiously cruel this really is. The heavy presence of him inside you puts additional strain on your bladder's muscle control, the resulting weak flex pulsing through your entire cunt to make your inner sleeve sensitively contract around his finger. All at once that insistent pressure to let go until you were mercifully empty roars back to life full force and you renew your struggle with a frantic little whimper. 

Wriothesley just shushes you though, sedately withdrawing his hand from your pussy just so he can then push in with two fingers. The mind numbing stretch to your body makes you weakly thrash and clench your teeth in an attempt to stop yourself from involuntarily pissing everywhere. But he seems to know what he’s doing and he’s hellbent on doing it, curling those broad digits inside you to push on up on your upper wall and jab towards where your heavy bladder rests inside you. 

“Oh - oohh — waaaah, stop it! Please! I - I don’t want to …” 

Readjusting his grip on your neck, Wriothesley pointedly nudges your face in his general direction to make you look at him even when your head drunkenly lolls in his grasp. “What’s not getting through that pretty little head of yours, huh? It doesn’t matter what you want. Your needs and desires are of no concern to me. As long as you’re here under my care you’ll do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. Understand now?” 

Blubbering rather pitifully while he continues to almost idly fuck his fingers into your aching bladder, you just stare up at him in wide eyed disbelief. Not only were you incredibly taken aback by his misuse of power, his total lack of empathy for you, but the fact that he seemed to be actively trying to make you piss yourself strikes you as particularly alarming as well. Why would he want to do this to you? It didn’t even make any sense. 

But you stubbornly clench down even when the tears start to run over and track hot streaks down your face, fighting tooth and nail to keep your continence under control. It’s a losing battle when his fingers were so thick and heavy, churning your guts with every sharp little jab against your interior. And as the seconds tick by you can’t quite decide which is worse — the way his rough ministrations make your pussy noisily suck at his fingers, slurping loudly each time he plunges them inside, or if it’s the way your desperate attempt at tightening up just makes you squeeze down on him even harder. 

It’s a dizzying, confusing rush of sensation slamming into you all at once, head spinning so fast it almost comes as something of a relief when you feel the pressure in you start to tip. Wriothesley practically forces it out of you, demanding your body respond to him with such insidious precision that you simply can’t help but cum. 

And you do, seething viciously through your teeth while you tersely judder and shake into an unexpected yet not unwelcome orgasm. It leaves you reeling in his hold, woundedly lurching while you gasp and squeal, hips bucking uncontrollably as he continues to fuck his fingers into you. Deliberately milking your release for everything it’s worth and dragging it out until you sensitively angle your pelvis away from him, moaning a dire sound of frazzled distress. 

To your reeling, punchdrunk surprise, the Duke allows his fingers to carefully slide out of you and leave your tender cunt altogether, and you wheeze a grateful sigh at the reprieve. You’re not entirely sure how you’d managed not to vacate everything in your bladder throughout that process but you feel vaguely proud of yourself in the aftermath, in a far off, dreamy sort of way. 

You even manage to straighten up enough to shoot him a relatively sharp look of victory that you’re certain is not in any way diminished by the fact you were flushed hot and still trying to catch your breath. 

He just looks down at you though, those icy crystalline blue eyes taking some of the wind out of your sails for how unmoved they were. 

And when Wriothesley slides his hand out of your pants you foolishly think this bizarre trial is over, that you’d bested him at his own game and now he had no choice but to give up. 

Your triumph over him is regretfully short lived though, and a haggard, hissing gasp catches in your throat when he presses his palm down on your lower stomach. Jerking at the pressure, you immediately try to twist out of his grip even when it yanks on your neck but he holds you fast. A little more firmly he pushes down, not enough to crush or hurt you, yet it’s more than sufficient to make the tension in your bladder start to give out. 

You couldn’t stopper it. Not after being attacked from the inside and now the outside. All you can do is helplessly squeal and squeeze your thighs together as tight as you can but it’s no use. You feel it coming, eyes starting to roll back in your head when the first tiny trickle slips out of you. And once that small allowance is made, involuntary though it may be, it’s like you lose complete control all at once. 

Another dribble of piss quickly follows and then a full on stream, forced right out of you by the uncomfortable pressure on your guts. Wailing a stricken sound of humiliated defeat, you bonelessly slouch back into the wall and let your legs fall open in a wide spread while it just keeps coming out of you completely against your will. The warm, wet sensation rapidly spreads underneath you, soaking into the cot and even right through your pants. You’ve never felt quite so deeply embarrassed as you do watching that stain spread across the material as your hips twitch at the onset of great relief that comes with it, knowing Wriothesley was watching you piss yourself the same way. 

He doesn’t let up on your stomach until he seems to be certain there’s nothing left some few moments later, slowly retracting his hands from you and then straightening up to leave you sitting in your own soiled clothes. Weak and broken, you just lie there without even making an attempt to close your legs and hide the evidence from him. Not only was it much too late for that but there was also too much of a mess for you to conceivably hide any of it. 

Your pants were soaked. 

The middle of the mattress was as good as waterlogged. 

There was no way you’d ever be able to forget this mortifying ordeal for as long as you might live, and something told you Wriothesley was going to personally see to that himself. 

“Well,” He intones, casually straightening out his tie where it had gone askew. “I’d say that takes care of that. I trust you’re feeling better now, little miss inmate?” 

Listlessly rousing at that, you send him a halfhearted and tearful glare. “Screw you …” 

“Ah, so you’re still inclined to be mouthy with me I see. No matter. I’m sure you’ll be singing a much different tune the next time I check in.” He starts to pull away from the cot as if to leave but seems to think of something else, turning back to you again with a stilted exhale. “Seriously though, I hope you’ll take this opportunity to reflect on your behavior so we don’t have to have another demonstration like this one. I don’t like throwing my weight around unless I absolutely have to. You’re going to get yourself hurt down here if you start running your mouth with someone who’s a little less nice than me. Just some food for thought.” 

He does leave then, calmly walking over to the door which he tugs open and steps through, shutting it with a click behind him. The sound of a rattling set of keys turning in the lock rings loud in the tight, cramped little space as you’re left alone in a quickly cooling puddle of your own piss with only your deeply embarrassed feelings for company now. 

If this was how the Duke did things in his fortress then perhaps it would be wise to behave him from now on. At the very least you didn’t want to get on his bad side again. 

⭐

Crossposted: here

[hobie-enthusiast]

WITHOUT YOU !

— ‘hobie × reader angst where the reader doesn't know that hobie is spider punk and doing all these multiverse missions and is hurt by hobie having to flake out and miss dates or hang outs, hobie wants to reveal who they are but maybe saw a multiverse where that didn't end well?’

— hobie brown x gn!reader

— lots of angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending, little blurbs and then a longer one

— duty calls hobie at the worst times, and you start to get weary of how he’s acting

— i had an inner debate with myself on ‘should i write a happy ending or sad ending’ so i compromised and did a poll (directly reuploaded from my old acc @/hobieenthusiast)

The first time Hobie Brown skipped out was three months into your relationship.

He wanted to take you to a local diner his friend owned. Hobie always wanted to support his fellow anarchists and friends in however they battle the corrupt world. And what better way than bringing his partner on a lovely date there?

He promised to meet you there. That he had something to take care of before he came.

You assumed maybe he was bringing a gift or had to change at his apartment beforehand. You know it would be okay, Hobie wouldn’t flake. Right?

Right?

You stood outside the diner in the cold air, waiting for Hobie to arrive. You had some paper flowers you created in your hand to give to him when he arrived (since of course you couldn't ever buy into capitalism). He was already about five minutes late at that point, but surely he had his reasons.

Five minutes turned into ten. Then ten to an hour. You went inside at some point to sit and wait for him, asking for some water and a coffee for when he got there. But after two hours, you lost any hope. You stood, paying for the undrunk coffee and tipping the waiter for dealing with you not ordering food.

Wasn't like you were hungry anyway.

As you were walking back to your apartment, you finally got a call from him. The adorable photo of the two of you along with 'Hobes <3' popped up, and you could only sigh as you picked up.

"Hobie?" You call out, holding the phone to your ear.

"[Name]!" He spoke on the other end, his voice sounding a little more upset and out of breath. "Sweetheart, 'm so sorry-"

You cut him off, shivering slightly. "Where were you? Actually, scratch that. Where are you?"

“Somethin’ came up, darlin’. ‘m so sorry. I called as soon as I could.”

He sounded genuine in his apology. You sighed, rubbing your eyes and keeping quiet for a little while. This stung, for sure. But if it was out of his control, could you blame him?

Hobie sighed on the other end. “I’ll make it up to ya, a’right? I’ll come ‘round tomorrow, we’ll go then, promise. That a’right, sweetheart?”

“Yeah..” You respond, taking a deep breath. “Yeah that’s good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Hobes.”

You both say goodbye and hang up soon after. Hobie stayed true to his word and came by the next day with some hand-made gifts to apologize, taking you out to the diner. It turned out okay, you were grateful for that much. Surely that was a one time thing.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The second time Hobie Brown skipped out was on your four month anniversary.

The two of you agreed to not do much, just stay in and hang out. He even agreed to teach you some guitar! To say you were excited was an understatement.

He promised to come over around seven and spend the night. Hobie even wanted to make dinner together. Something you were again looking forward to.

His promise was genuine, so surely him being late wasn’t anything to worry about, right?

Right?

You put on a record onto your record player, one of the shared favourites between you and Hobie, playing the music throughout the apartment. You sat on your couch, fiddling with some of the pins Hobie gifted you as you awaited his arrival.

Eight pm. Hobie still hadn’t shown up.

You shot him a quick text, asking where he was. No reply. Surely everything was okay. He was Hobie Brown, he knew how to take care of himself. With little worry in your mind, you focused on starting dinner, hoping Hobie wouldn’t mind.

Nine pm. No sign of Hobie.

You finished making food, setting a plate aside in the microwave as you ate your portion in silence. The music accompanied you, but not like Hobie does.

Ten pm. Hobie Brown was nowhere around.

You could only sigh in frustration, upset he flaked, again. No call this time either. You had sent close to six texts within those three hours, none of which were responded to. You were upset, that much was certain.

A knock on your door startled you. You rush over, opening it quickly.

Hobie stood on the other side, clutching his arm with his hand covered in blood. Some cuts and bruises littered his face.

“Hobes, oh my- get in here.” You say in worry, bringing him in and guiding him to your couch. “Sit.. hold on please just.. crap..”

You rush to grab some medical supplies, lying them down in front of him. You take a towel, soak in some hydrogen peroxide, raising it to his arm. Your hand shakes as you make contact with Hobie’s skin, but his hand stops you.

“Aye, look here..” He says quietly, looking down at you. “You’re shakin’. Deep breaths, ‘right? ‘m totally fine.”

“But you aren’t! You blow me off then show up three hours later all beaten up! You can’t do that Hobie!”

He’s silent as you shakily clean him up. He could tell you were upset, and he felt guilty for being the cause. This was yet another instance out of his control, but Hobie didn’t feel it was right to excuse himself while you were so nervous.

You finish cleaning and bandaging before sighing. “I’m sorry I just.. you scared me, Hobes.”

“I know, sweetheart..” He responds, pulling you into a tight hug. “Won’ happen again. Promise.”

Funny enough, that’s what he said the first time.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The third, fourth, and fifth times Hobie Brown flaked were enough to make you pissed.

He continued to promise he couldn’t flake again. He said he wouldn’t get hurt and that he would show up. That he wouldn’t be late.

Lies.

You sat on the rooftop of your apartment building, legs dangling over the edge. You knew Hobie would come. You said it was urgent. That you had to talk.

“Careful. Don’t needya fallin’ down.”

You chuckle at the familiar voice. Hobie comes to sit next to you, noticing the somber expression you’re wearing.

He sighed, looking over the building. “Everythin’ alright?”

“As much as I want to say yes, no.” You respond, not daring to look at Hobie’s expression.

There was a heavy silence that hung between you two for a little while. He knew what this was about, but he had no intention of telling you the answer.

—

Hobie let out a small breath, sending the anomaly back to HQ. This one put up a fight, that was certain. And that universe’s Spider-man? Well he was dealing with another villain not too far from there.

He decided to swing over in case anything went wrong, settling for observing for now. But something about the enemy did catch his ear.

He kept talking about how he was going to make Spider-man pay, they were sworn enemies, blah blah the same spiel like always. But this one was saying.. more than that.

‘You’re gonna pay for keeping [Name] from me!’

‘How do you even know ‘em?’

‘Oh Spider-man, I know all. Just like how I know you revealed your identity to them. Wrong move, Spider-man. Or should I say, Hobie Brown?’

Of course Hobie knew this wasn’t his universe, but hearing it almost felt like an out-of-body experience. He watched as the fight raged on, even seeing this universe’s you suspended on the top of a clock tower.

He watched the moment go on. Watched as this Hobie Brown stopped the enemy, fixed any falling pieces, then went to save his you. But he didn’t make it. The clock tower piece snapped from damage, releasing the hold it had on his you.

Hobie couldn’t watch anymore. He swung away from the scene, far as possible, before taking off his mask with a heavy sigh.

He was debating with himself for so long. He owed it to you to tell you about his identity. He knew that. But after seeing that.. he wasn’t too sure he truly could.

His heart was heavy as he pulled out his phone, seeing a dozen texts from you asking where he was. Hobie felt so guilty, keeping this secret.

But he had a duty to protect you, even if that means hiding it.

—

“What’s going on with you?” You ask, drawing your knees to your chest. “You continue to flake on our dates and hang-outs. Your bandmates have said you don’t come to rehearsals. And you randomly show up hurt or worse. I can’t understand what’s happening.”

Hobie sighed. “I know. Haven’ been very present. ‘m sorry.”

You shake your head. “I’m not looking for an apology.” You say, glancing at him. “I’m looking for an explanation.”

“Well..”

Hobie stops his words, unable to continue. It’s like he’s back in that moment when he witnessed your death. Well.. other universe you. But it still stung the same. Would that be the consequence if he told you who he really was?

He knows Spider-man can’t save everyone. So what does he do?

“Can’t tell ya..” Hobie finally says, looking out onto the city. It was always so beautiful at night. “‘s for your safety.”

“My safety? Hobie you can’t be serious.” You say, a sad expression crossing your face.

He shakes his head in turn. “I just.. need time. I gotta make sure ‘s safe to tell ya.”

You’re silent as his words, unsure of what to do. You trusted Hobie, you truly did. But this was hurting the both of you. That much was obvious.

“Okay..”

You lean your body on Hobie’s arm, taking a deep breath of air. “Take as long as you need. Just.. promise you’ll stay safe. Please.”

Hobie wraps an arm around your shivering body, planting a kiss on your head as he combs through your hair. He’s grateful, oh so grateful, that you understand. This wasn’t easy, he knew that of course. But you were the best person who possibly could understand, even when so in the dark.

“Promise..”

His voice carried into the wind of the night, sealing the words between the two lovers.

[heartshapedbubble]

Hi! I hope your having a good day/night wherever you are 🫶

I was wondering if you could maybe write some friends to lovers head cannons with Ganji and Eli?

hello!! you too anon💖 (like. 5 months later but oh well :c )

this is such a cute prompt HEEHEE >W<

ganji gupta and eli clark friends to lovers hcs🏏🦉

ganji gupta🏏

he likes company but doesn't like initiating hangouts. he's a man of few words, most of them reserved for when there's really no other option other than to communicate verbally

whenever you two sit together he always gets a bit restless and fidgety. if you try to bring up the topic he'll just brush it off, saying it's nothing to worry about

he can't EVER discern if he likes somebody or if he's just anxious and it literally swallows him whole. thinking about verbalizing what he feels or physical closeness makes him feel a bit dizzy so he just pushes these thoughts to the back of his brain until they eventually resurface again

gets a tad distant, being a bit rude and brash as a defense mechanism

shows his care by being (over)protective, especially in matches. when he sees you in danger it's like he's seeing red, leaving hunters bruised from his aggressive swings. he says he's overprotective in general, that you're not special and that he treats you like he would anyone else, but it hurts to say that when he thinks the exact opposite

confess first. or, at least, hint at doing so. it's not gonna get to his head unless you say it first, directly, no buts or ifs - only then will he realize that hey, maybe i should stop denying myself romantic attraction?

your first few dates are a bit awkward. you two are a *thing* now, but he doesn't understand the new boundaries your relationship sets. is it really alright to hold your waist in front of everyone?

just give him some time until he gets comfortable, it takes time for him to drop the stoic persona

his first kisses are sloppy. he initiates them slowly and without much confidence, hands trembling as they bring you closer and he plants his warm lips against the corner of your mouth - he still doesn't dare to go lips-to-lips. they make for a good laugh afterwards, him nervously grinning at his own anxiety.

is almost shocked when you return the favor, maybe even more eagerly than him. slowly kiss his temples, rub the back of his head with care and he's paralyzed under your hands, his mind wandering away beneath your tender touches

his most cherished moments with you are spent in complete silence. the feeling of unconditional love contained within a comfortable silence is indispensable, and just the fact that he doesn't have to strain himself with small talk and expressing things he can't actually describe feels great

eli clark🦉

victory or loss, no matter his mood, whenever you call upon eli clark his head turns towards you in a second. his face is completely covered - save for his mouth and nose - but his lips are always curled into a soft smile

the cloaked seer enjoys solitude and spends most of his free time in it. he's softspoken, but always a tad gloomy and breathless

yet it doesn't take much to creep under his skin. a few kind words will quickly put him at ease and, encouraged by your own openness, he won't hesitate to be straightforward with you

spending so much time pondering and overthinking, he can't help but notice his feelings towards you. well, they might not be feelings by the traditional definition, but what other word can describe the tingles he feels when he hears your voice from behind, when you creep upon him? or the surge of heat in his abdomen while he's slowly making his way towards you, watching your expression change through brooke's eyes?

he confesses first. definetly. it'll take him a few days to devise a plan, to find the best spot and time to confess and phrase his thoughts, but it wouldn't take long during your friendship for it to happen. he's a bit of a romantic at heart and can easily get swayed by affection

most of his ways of expressing affection are through small PDA. tenderly holding your hand or your waist, rubbing your shoulders after a tense match or holding you from the back. he's a literal heat machine! has so much layers on and it feels really good to lay back against him in response. you can easily wrap the remaining fabric around yourself, too

only takes off his hood and blindfold a bit further into the relationship. he's so used to them masking his true appearance that taking them off in front of others makes him feel vulnerable

asks the WEIRDEST questions and says the most random stuff on dates. literally no filter. who knows where his mind actually goes while you talk to him?

likes when you get touchy with him :,) rub his hips (they're kinda sore and he often has to crack them like knuckles, it's hard to carry so many bags and pouches around his waist ok!!), mess with his hair, trace your fingers around his face, whisper him the dumbest things up-close into his ear, hell, even bite him if you want to! has insomnia anyways and any kind of stimulation helps him fall asleep. he just turns into a happy human blob

[unma]

I'm not going to be able to write my typical long rambles for a bit (need to catch up on important work), but here's a short list of things I wanna talk about with the latest canto.

Spoilers, of course.

The entire Canto taking place after the ending of Don Quixote (the first Don, I will not call him the Actual Don because our Don is as much Don Quixote as he is) is not something I expected, but makes so much sense and made for a wonderful story. There are themes of identity, struggling to live under a broken system and GOD THE FAMILIAL TIES. THE FIGHT AGAINST THE TWO MIDBOSSES + THE PRIEST HAD SUCH MAGNIFICENT STORY BUILD UP. AND THE PRIEST'S ENTIRE MOVESET. UGGGH I WANNA TALK ABOTU IT

Hey. Outis. What did you mean by that. We all know what I'm talking about, right? This is the first time I know of that she's actually given even a smidge of info about herself somewhat directly. Somewhat. Everything else is just in how she knows things and acts. Here she is asking a very specific question and god, I need to know more about her now.

Good job Sinclair. And everyone else. But good job Sinclair.

Vergilius with Sanson's face/mask is cursed.

I continue to feel so so bad for the Bloodfiends. They did the best they could in a world that gave them only two horrible options. I couldn't help but compare La Manchaland to the Tokyo Ghoul:RE ending, because the hemobars reminded me of the artificial meat, except in TG:RE it worked and here, well. We saw how that went. I think it's a great idea to start with the after of their solution; this isn't a situation with a possible solution, they tried that and failed. Who knows if there is one that works? Does it matter now that they're all dead?

I'm going to be very weird about Camille once this is all said and done, but I do want to note that the pretty boy being turned into a flower and having a name very clearly gotten from Carmilla the flower (and maybe the book? Haven't read it yet so idk if he's taken from there) is very cheeky. I still wish I could've besting him up myself. This isn't me critiquing the writing, this is me being weird.

The QTE in the ending cutscene of the boss fight was cool and really added to the feeling of fighting against and overcoming a clearly superior foe.

I wanna hug Don Quixote the First. He's such a ray of sunshine and deserved better. Even if he was somewhat delusional, at least he genuinely cared for his family.

What happened to Hong Lu's sister? Did she just vanish? I didn't notice until later on, so I'll probably need to go back and check myself.

Bari is the Librarian of Death (edit: Nameless Bookhunter, thanks for the correction AE)? Idfk and idc for now. If Bari ends up showing up again or a moot of mine decides they wanna talk about it, maybe I'll look into it.

The familial themes here are most certainly also going to be related to Hong Lu's story, which once more is a reason I really should get to reading all the books for this game.

Ryoshu accepting death from the possibility of fighting Don Qui the second was really funny.

The abno fights here are really good, and I love how Limbus is making unbreakable coins the standard from now on. Makes it so you can't just blaze through fights taking no damage, and these battles genuinely feel difficult. That's good. Their designs and mechanics are also pretty easy to understand and match with their ego gifts pretty well. God I wish we had more Rupture ids that could stack as much count as the Lasso abno.

Sancho fight was cool as hell. The clashable 10 speed skill was so good and made it feel like a massive improvement on the Cassetti fight. So good. On use coin power did mess me up a little given it doesn't show up in the clash numbers, but that was on me for not reading tbh.

Fun fact: final boss can be Meatlantern soloed really easily. So easy in fact that that's how I cleared it. Doing it with a full team didn't end well for me. The solo's also really consistent, which is nice.

Mili song is really good. As usual. I need to go listen to it again. I need an in-game mix. I need it. The childishness of Sancho's side of the tune compared with the seriousness of first Don's side is lovely.

Also. Please, in the final clash where you use Don's base ego. I hope you looked at the name of the ego and the name of Don the First's attack. Please. It's such a good detail. And it's so much better when you remember that Sancho was always the one making weapons for Don. He calls Sancho's lances much more graceful than his. It's so lovely. You can tell these two genuinely love each other. It's so good.

Also the fact that basically every fixer we went in with got wiped out by weakened Bloodfiends really shows just how powerful these bloodfiends are. Camille had to resort to using ego gear to survive. Sheesh.

That'll be all for now. Expect a long ramble on any of these points when I'm more free, aka never.

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

Do you ever struggle not sharing details of your story / spoiling people? It's one of the hardest parts of writing for me! I always want to just divulge all of my ideas immediately!

The answer, weirdly enough... is no!

And a part of that is definitely due to me being a giant, secret-hoarding dragon in disguise. But another part of that is the fact that I largely suspect that...

Keeping secrets and avoiding spoilers is the reason this comic is still alive and updating.

Now, that may sound odd. Why would keeping secrets help me post? Sharing work is kind of the life-blood of a lot of creative endeavors. Storytelling is an inherently social activity. All humans, even the most introverted ones, thrive on peer recognition and feedback.

But over the years, I've come to realize something about myself. And this realization may be mostly stemming from me, but I suspect it's actually a pretty common factor for other creatives as well. So maybe I should talk about it (again).

Let me introduce you to something I call...

The Emperor's New Accomplishment.

Here's the thing. I'm an extremely introverted, non-social person. I can go for months without talking to friends easily, even if I love them a whole lot. That all being said, I'm still a human being, and my brain derives happy-social-animal chemicals from being recognized as A Person With Traits. Humans are built that way! We can't avoid it.

So what you gotta understand is - at all times, our brain is seeking social/peer recognition like it seeks out high-calorie foods. And it (largely) does not care what we have to do to get it.

Herein lies the problem.

Usually, creating stuff and thinking about stories and then sharing what we wrote with friends is a great way to get that happy chemical.

But it's time consuming. And difficult. And there's a shortcut.

What we seek when we create Scenarios and Characters and Conflicts is not hard work toiling away writing/drawing/constructing stuff. Many artists actively enjoy this process, but it's grueling.

And just telling our friends about our ideas actually accomplishes the end goal, as far as our brain is concerned! We made up ideas! We told people about it! We got the Good Feelings!

So when I tell people about my Plans to Write A Comic or Ideas To Make a Story, what I'm actually doing is tricking my brain into thinking 'wow, this feels great! We have accomplished the task we set out to do! No more effort necessary!'

And that motivation to actually draw/write/create?

It goes directly into the trashcan.

Now I'm not saying this to suggest people who do this/fall prey to this are lazy. They're not!

But our brains are. They're lazy, and they want to save energy. And they don't care if you WANTED to actually make the story. They will gladly rip the Motivation energy out of our grubby little hands when they no longer deem it necessary to the process.

So - why do I keep so many secrets? How do I stop myself from talking about what happens next in the story?

I'm doing it to keep my actual comic alive.

Disclaimer: Not everyone functions like this, obviously. Everyone has a different creative process. But this is how I've realized MY brain works, so I now take steps to trick my brain back into working. Ha! Take that, brain! Two can play at this--waitaminute.

[mysewingadventures]

Making the ✨Lioncourt Gown✨ (Part 1/4)

Shoot, it's been like two years since I last posted, apologies! I’ve been incredibly busy with uni and life in general, taking care of my mental health, it’s just been a very stressful time lately. I haven't really worked on anything worthy of posting in the meantime, only minor things and one dress I rushed and it didn't turn out well anyway. But, since Halloween is coming up and I don’t feel like wearing the same thing for the third time in a row, I thought it was the perfect excuse to try and make something new and the other day at 2am I fell down a rabbit hole and came up with an idea I’m completely obsessed with.

So recently, (in case you couldn't tell by the title haha) I’ve been really into Interview with the Vampire (the TV show), and there’s this one costume that’s so iconic it immediately caught my attention: This Lestat outfit.

I feel like since this blog isn't fandom related I need to explain myself to those of you who are just semi-familiar with IWTV. Maybe you know Lestat as essentially the villain of the story and are wondering why on earth I'd want to make an outfit inspired by him. The answer is quite simple and not actually deep at all: I just thought it'd be a fun project. I'm very well aware of his personality and would not want to be in the same room as him in real life haha. But he's such an interesting character to watch on screen (they all are, in my opinion). Anyways-

This outfit is from a scene that takes place in the 1790s and now, I’m unfortunately not too versed in men’s fashion so I can’t quite comment on its historical accuracy (and also it’s worn in the context of a theater performance so it’s bound to be more flashy than what people would have worn on the streets), but the way the lapel is shaped just screams redingote to me, and since I've always wanted to make a redingote I'm going to make a redingote version of the costume!

For reference, here's what a c. 1790 redingote looks like:

This one has a normal button closure but redingotes were also often double-breasted (which is what I'm going for), taking inspiration from men's fashion. These were often worn to ride in - hence the name, redingote - riding coat.

Maybe this is the point where I should mention that I'm not going for perfect historical accuracy for this project. It really is just a fun project to try to approximate something as seen on a show to an actual historical piece of clothing.

Here’s a super quick sketch I drew to check if the colors looked good together, and I have to say, I’m sold 1000%.

I am so excited to wear this when it’s done, but also a bit anxious because for starters, I’ve never made a redingote before, and the dresses that I have made all have issues with the sleeves because apparently, I can’t sew sleeves correctly. So this time, I really want to make sure it all fits properly before I sew it and take my time with it to make sure it ends up being something that I love as much as I love the idea of it.

This time, I tried something a little different with my mockup - usually, I’ll draft a pattern on paper, then cut out my mockup and sew it, but this time I decided to make the mockup by draping the fabric directly on the mannequin that I dressed in my stays and a bumroll, making sure I had the correct measurments, and it was a complete gamechanger. It fit right away with minimal adjustments, and I was also immediately able to check how the fabric falls, if it needed to be on the bias or not, etc. I ended up doing everything on straight grain which is technically not 100% correct as the front piece needs to be on a slight bias but it seems to work for this piece so let’s hope the fabric doesn’t wrinkle! I’ll also be adding boning so I’m hoping that’ll additionally keep it all straight and even in the front.

Once the mockup was completed, I went on the search for the right fabrics and got these (the skirt fabric, the buttons and the tape I ordered online and they've yet to arrive!):

The black base fabric and the blue one are cotton, as will be the skirt. The details are satin! I spent a long time at the fabric store trying to think of the best way to do this and it does look like the details on Lestat's outfit are maybe velvet, but I was afraid it would look a little too costume-y and cheap, so I ended up going with satin in the end.

I pinned the fabric mock-up onto the lining fabric (just a white Ikea bedsheet), added 1,5cm seam allowances where needed cut out the lining first, then placed the lining onto the black base fabric and cut that out as well.

I needed to lay the pieces down this way because I bought 2,5 meters, and I'll need 2m for the outer skirt alone so there's not a lot of space left, as I'll also have to cut out the sleeves from that fabric. I then sewed everything together.

And then I noticed I'd made a mistake - the lining for the front panel was supposed to be blue. Welp, now it's white, and I also realized I didn't have enough blue fabric to do the collar AND the lining, so I went for a fake lining for which I cut out two blue triangles to be slightly bigger than the lapel

and stitched them to the lining layer so the seams wouldn't be visible on the black outer layer. This was the result:

Pretty happy with it! Next up, even though I don't have the beige tape yet, I decided to cut out the color panels in the front and already pin them down. After some trial and error, I decided to go for 15x4,5cm triangles and calculated the size needed for the shorter ones (9x7,5cm), cut them out of the satin (which, let me tell you, was so finicky it ended up being the most difficult part of it all) laid them down and fastened with pins.

This is what I have so far:

Looking at it in the picture, I'm worried that the color panels take up too much space in the front. It looks like that in the original picture, but in my sketch I made everything a little narrower. But I was also scared of pulling on it too much because the panels are just pinned to the fabric. Some parts are sticking out over the black base layer which maybe also makes it look wider than it really is, I'll cut it to shape once I have the tape and have a better visual understanding of what it's going to look like.

Next up will be the collar/yoke and the dreaded sleeves and possibly the boning. I should do the boning before I attach the beige tape. I am realizing as I’m writing this that I should’ve done the boning before pinning down the colored panels as they’re supposed to cover it. Oh well. It’s fine. Either way, I think it already looks super cool and I can't wait to see the finished product!

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4|